Lose Yourself
by Mr. JRyan
Summary: Dean tried convincing Sam that Mary and Jess's death wasn't his fault... but Sam didn't believe him, and now his depression is hitting the brothers hard and fast. Can Dean save him? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter One

**Set After**: Sometime after 'Nightmares', but 'The Benders' quotes and memories will be mixed in later (after it airs next week).

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: probably a few typos here and there...

* * *

"Sam, what are you doing up?"

It was two in the morning, and Sam was researching on his laptop. He was trying to look up other deaths that were similar to Mary's death and Max's mother's death. Of course he wasn't really getting anywhere, but he had to try, right? He thought he was being quiet, but obviously not.

Sam looked over at Dean, who was staring at him through half way open eyes, obviously a little pissed off, concerned and tired. Yup, all rolled into one. "Researching," Sam said simply before looking back at the computer.

"Sam, get your ass to bed," Dean groaned, rolling over. He closed his eyes, listening for a few moments. When he realized the clicking and the key-typing wasn't coming to a stop anytime soon he rolled his eyes and got out of bed slowly. He rubbed his eyes, then walked over to Sam, pulling out his chair.

"Dean, what --" Dean then grabbed Sam, lifting him out. "Dean, let me go!"

Dean smirked sleepily and walked over to Sam's bed, dropping him down on it. "Sleep." Walking back over to the computer he saved the current addresses and turned the machine off before walking over to his own bed and laying down. "Night, Sam."

Sam groaned in annoyance. "Dean, I was busy."

Dean then heard the mattress creak, and looked over at his brother through the darkness. "If you don't go to sleep I'm gonna kick your ass."

Sam sighed and shook his head, pulling his covers over him. "Night, Dean."

Dean nodded in satisfaction, rolling over in his bed, closing his eyes. "Good Sammy. Tomorrow I'll give you a treat."

Sam rolled his eyes, though he was smirking slightly. Shaking his head, he didn't say another word, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Dean yawned, opening his eyes. He looked around the room, finding that Sam was back on the computer. He looked over at the clock. It was eight in the morning. He shook his head and got out of bed slowly, walking over to his little brother. "How long have you been up?"

"A couple hours," Sam said, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Why?"

"Damn, Sam, you need to go back to bed," Dean said, rubbing his face slightly.

"No," Sam said distractedly, starting to read up on a case.

"What is it?" Dean asked, leaning over his shoulder.

"A house burned down about ten years ago. A woman died in it. Her husband said that she was pinned to the ceiling, gutted, over their newborn's crib." Sam looked up at Dean. "The paper says the kid's now in a 'special' hospital. They're saying he's gone insane because he probably remembers, even at that age. The kid thinks that he can freeze time."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're not still on your 'The demon kills the mothers of psychic kids' trip, are you?"

"Dean, it matches. Mom, Max's mom, this lady's death, countless other deaths I've looked up... Dean, you can't deny the facts," Sam said, motioning to the computer screen.

Dean groaned, sitting back down on his bed. "And this is what you've been working on all night?"

Sam watched his brother carefully, nodding. "Yeah. Dean, after what Max told me I couldn't just ignore it."

"Yes you could have," Dean said, crossing his arms. "I told you that Mom and Jess's death had nothing to do with you. Why the hell do you insist on jumping into dangerous territory?"

"Dean, Dad didn't want us to look for the demon with him --"

"He said it was dangerous for all of us --"

"What he meant was that it was dangerous for _me_. Dean, it's obvious, alright? The demon wants psychic children and he'll stop at nothing to get them. He'll kill anyone he has to. Dad didn't want us to help look for the demon because of me. It all makes sense. Max had powers and look what happened to his mom. All these other kids show some kind of psychic ability and their mothers died the same way, too. Some of there fathers even did. It makes sense."

"Then what about Jess, huh? How does she fit into this?" Dean asked, obviously starting to get more than a little annoyed.

"Maybe it came back for another go at me, I don't know," Sam said, shrugging. "But Jess got in the way so he took care of her." Sam sighed, standing up. "Dean, I'm the reason Mom and Jess are dead."

"No you're not, Sam!" Dean yelled, also standing up. "You have to stop beating yourself up like this! It's not your fault!"

"Stop beating myself up?" Sam asked, staring at Dean like his brother obviously didn't know what he was talking about. "Dean, how would _you_ feel if you were in my shoes, huh? Would you just let it go?"

"No, I wouldn't! That's why we're hunting the damn thing, Sam!" Dean yelled, shaking his head in disbelief. He closed his eyes for a second, calming himself down. After a few moments he looked back at Sam, his eyes almost pleading. "Sam, say we were in each other's shoes, alright? Would you want _me_ laying the blame on myself? Would you?"

"No, but --"

"I'm sick and tired of you saying that it's your fault! I'm tired of you carrying the guilt around when you deserve better!" Dean yelled, his temper rising quickly again. "News flash: The world doesn't revolve around Sam!"

"I never said it did!" Sam yelled back, staring at his brother with a shocked expression.

"You're sure acting like it!" Dean yelled. " 'Oh, I'm responsible for Mom's death' 'I'm responsible for Jess's death' 'I'm responsible for the curse laid out on my family' 'I'm responsible for the pain my brother and father go through because my mother died, which, remember, was my fault'! You need to just shut the hell up before I make you!"

"You know what, Dean? Screw you." Sam glared at his brother before grabbing his bag.

"Sam, where are you going?" Dean demanded, following Sam as he started towards the door. When Sam opened the door up Dean put a hand on it, slamming it shut. "You're not leaving."

"Try and stop me," Sam growled before pushing Dean out of the way and leaving the motel room.

"Sam, get your ass back here!" Dean yelled, storming after him. When Sam didn't stop, Dean glared at his back. "Fine! Leave! I can kill just as many things without having to lug your ass around!"

"Fine!" Sam yelled back, not bothering to turn around; he just kept on walking.

"Fine!" Dean yelled once more before storming into the motel room and slamming the door.

* * *

The night Dean sat in front of the computer, searching for his next gig. He could do without Sam, he really could. Hell, he had done it before, so why would this time be any different?

_Because you want him here..._

Dean shook his head. "No. I don't need him. He left and that's his problem." Focusing back on the computer screen, he willed himself to forget about his brother. Sam was safe, he knew how to take care of himself. He was fine... he had to be...

**_RING, RING_**

Dean groaned in annoyance and walked over to the table between the beds, grabbing his cell phone. He sighed in relief when he noticed what it said: _Call From: **Sam**_. Dean picked it up immediately. "Sam?"

_"Dean, I think something's after me."_

"What?" Dean asked, his eyes going wide. "Sam, where are you?"

_"Just outside Gary's Bar and Grill."_

_"_Alright, go back inside and stay put. I'll be there soon, alright?" Dean walked over to the laptop, saving his sites before shutting the machine down and closing it.

_"Okay, I will... Hey, Dean?"_

"What, Sam?" Dean asked, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on.

_"I'm sorry."_

Dean sighed, nodding slightly. "Remember: Go back inside and stay put. Do you got that?"

_"I'm headed inside right now... Okay, I'm inside."_

_"_Good. Call me if anything happens," Dean said before hanging up his phone and grabbing his keys. He started out the door, determined the make sure his little brother was safe. One little fight wasn't going to change anything... was it?

* * *

**Dean**: Let's count the stories where Sam gets hurt, shall we? _Thoughtless Memories_, _Future Consequences_, _Fight for Survival_, _Life Changes_, and now this one, _Lose Yourself_. And let's not forget one of your one-shots, _Protect Me_. Haley, I know I've asked this a million times, but why in the hell do you always torture my brother?

**Sam**: Does she really have to explain it all over again?

**Dean**: Yes, she does!

**Haley**: I enjoy it!

**Dean**: That's twisted! **_Balls hand into fist_**. I don't normally like to hit chicks, but you --

**Sam**: Haley, you should probably rephrase.

**Haley**: I should, huh? Okay, fine. Even though I've explained this a _million_ times already.

**Dean**: A million and one never hurt anybody.

**Haley**: I enjoy it, but not in the way you would think. I don't enjoy hurting Sam, that's no fun to write. I feel really bad about it, actually. But this was such a good story scenario that I couldn't pass it up. I mean, really, I had a list of, like, five. This seemed like the best one. Cause, as everyone has probably already guessed, _Life Changes_ is coming to a close pretty soon and I wanted a story to fall back on so I wasn't completely bored and uninspired. But I do feel really bad about hurting you again, Sam! **_Hugs Sam tightly_**!

**Sam**: **_Smiling_**. Haley, it's fine. Really. Dean may not understand that they're just stories but I do.

**Haley**: Yay! I love my Sammy Wammy!

**Dean**: First Deany Weany and now Sammy Wammy? You're... God, I don't even _know_ what you are.

**Haley**: _Anyway_, like I said, it's not the 'Sam getting hurt' part that I like. It's the 'Dean turning into an overprotective older brother' part that I just die for. That a lot of people die for, actually. My readers love it when you do that. And, you know... a lot of my readers are chicks, Dean.

**Dean**: Really? Well, then carry on!

**Haley**: **_Big grin_**! I knew you'd see it my way eventually. Anyway, stay tuned for the next chapter of my newest story! Love ya'll!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter Two

**Set After**: Sometime after 'Nightmares', but 'The Benders' quotes and memories will be mixed in later (after it airs next week).

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: self-hurt; probably a few typos here and there...

* * *

Dean drove up to Gary's Bar and Grill, looking around. Hell, no wonder Sam had thought something was after him… this was a pretty shady place, and the nighttime darkness didn't do it any favors, either. There were people hanging out outside, roaming the parking lots. Dean was a little bit hesitant to leave his Impala with these creeps, so he drove up to the front and honked his horn. Sam walked through the doors, then climbed in the car, looking out his window.

"What the hell are you doing in a place like this?" Dean asked, shaking his head in disbelief as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"You mean without you?" Sam asked, smirking slightly over at his older brother.

"No, I mean in general. Even _I_ wouldn't trust that place with my baby," Dean said, patting the dashboard. "Did you see those punks out checking out the cars?" He shook his head, then looked over at Sam briefly as he started back on the path to their motel. "What made you think something was after you?"

"Shadows," Sam said, staring at the road in front of them. "And I kept getting a really cold feeling… an evil feeling."

"Well, at the moment I think you need to get a bit of sleep. We'll worry about whatever it is in the morning," Dean said, looking over at Sam for a second. "This town doesn't have any history of killings or kidnappings or anything of that sort, so I think it'll be fine if we wait."

Sam nodded slightly, still looking out the front window.

* * *

Dean opened his eyes later that night, not knowing what had woken him. He looked over at the clock. It was one in the morning. After taking a quick glance at his brother's bed, then the laptop, he was certain that Sam was up but he wasn't researching.

Dean rubbed his eyes slightly. "Sam?" he called, getting out of bed slowly. Upon hearing sobs coming from the bathroom, he quickly turned towards the door, stepping towards it. He tried opening the door, cursing silently as he realized it was locked. "Sam, open up!" When he got no response Dean groaned in annoyance before backing up slightly, ramming into the door. It opened, and Dean momentarily froze.

Sam was leaning over the sink, sobbing his poor little heart out. There were a couple cuts on his left arm going from his wrist to the middle of his lower arm.

"Sam!" Dean quickly started searching through the drawers in the bathroom. When he found a rag he quickly wetted it down, sticking it on Sam's arm. He then set his brother down on the toilet, his heart racing. Sam was still sobbing, and Dean kneeled down in front of him, rubbing his leg. "Hey, Sam, calm down. Shh… Calm down and tell me what's wrong. Please?"

Sam looked into Dean's eyes, noting the fear and concern that they showed. He knew that he had woken Dean up, but Dean didn't look tired at all. He just looked panicked. Sam took a few deep breaths, calming himself down. He shook his head, looking down at his arm.

"Let me see," Dean said softly, taking the rag off carefully. He cringed slightly when he noticed Sam wince. Inspecting the cuts, he nodded slightly. "They're not too deep. They'll be able to heal without stitches. Which is good, cause Patrick White _really_ can't afford a hospital visit right now." He was, of course, referring to the name on the credit card they were currently using. Dean then looked back up at Sam. "Alright, you better start talking."

Sam looked away from Dean.

Dean sighed, hanging his head low before looking back up at his little brother. "If I let it go for tonight will you talk to me about it in the morning?"

Sam looked over at Dean, looking hesitant. He then nodded.

"Okay, c'mon," Dean said softly, pulling his brother up off the toilet by his good arm. As they walked he didn't let go of him, holding him close. Dean set Sam down on his bed. No, not Sam's bed; Dean's.

Sam looked up at Dean, raising his eyebrows. "Dean, what --?"

"Sam, you're losing blood. Enough of it to have me worried," Dean said, laying down on the bed. "So you're sleeping in my bed so I know you don't die on me or something. Got it?"

"Dying would be kind of the point," Sam muttered, looking down at the ground.

"Sam, either get your ass to sleep or we're not waiting until the morning to talk about this," Dean snapped, closing his eyes.

Sam sighed, nodding. "Fine. But do I really --?"

"Yes." Dean grabbed Sam's shirt, pulling him down on the bed next to him.

* * *

Sam opened his eyes slowly, looking around the room the next morning. He felt dizzy, and his head hurt a lot. He groaned, rolling over in the bed, realizing too late that it was a stupid idea. Pain shot up his arm, causing him to cry out.

Dean peaked his head out of the bathroom doorway, watching Sam holding his damaged arm in pain. He smirked slightly, shrugging. "Maybe that will teach you that arms and knives don't mix."

"Shut up," Sam groaned, taking a few deep breaths. He sat up slowly, looking down at his arm. It was all patched up. But, how..?

"Sneaking around has it's advantages. You can fix your brother's arm without him waking up." Dean walked out of the bathroom and sat down on the bed. "Ready to talk?"

"Dean, I just woke up," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at his brother.

Dean pretended to cough, waving his hand in front of his face. "Good point. You need to brush your teeth."

Sam rolled his eyes, though he was smirking slightly. He sat up from the bed, walking over to his bag.

"Why do you want to leave me?"

Sam turned around, his toothbrush in hand. He stared at his brother for a moment, his expression showing the guilt he felt. He knew it had hurt his brother to see him like that the night before, and Sam was so, so sorry for that. Putting his toothbrush back into his bag he sighed, shaking his head. He stood up, then walked over to his brother, sitting back down next to him. "Dean, I…" What was he going to tell him? That he just couldn't take the guilt anymore? Dean would probably find him weak and yell at him again.

"You know, Sam, I was ready and prepared to protect you from all the supernatural creatures we deal with all the time, but I never thought I'd have to learn how to protect you from yourself," Dean said quietly, looking down at the ground. "And what I saw last night…" Dean's eyes shifted to Sam's arm, then his face. "It scared me."

Sam swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. Dean never admitted that he was scared. Hell, Dean barely _was_ scared. He was always ready to laugh in the face of danger, taking everything head on. The only times Sam had actually seen his brother scared was when Sam himself was in some sort of life threatening danger, but even _then_ Dean didn't admit to it. Sam would've asked why now, out of all times, but it was obvious.

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered, looking away from his brother.

"Sam, you need to talk to me," Dean said forcefully, gently grabbing Sam's head and turning it. "Please."

Sam shook his head, standing up. "We need to find our next gig," he said, walking over to the laptop. "People to save, ghosts to bust."

"Not until you talk to me," Dean said, standing, his arms crossed.

"Dean, people are dying," Sam said, turning to him. "And we're just gonna let that happen? What if a doctor or a firefighter or a cop is getting hurt right now? Their lives are important."

"Not more important than yours!" Dean yelled, tears of anger springing to his eyes. "Now tell me why the hell you tried to kill yourself last night! I'm not screwing around here, Sam! Neither of us are leaving this room until you talk to me!"

Sam watched his brother. He had never seen him so… breakdown-ish. It scared Sam, to be honest. Dean was never one to just wear his heart on his sleeve… he usually kept it tucked protectively inside his pocket.

"I can't," Sam whispered, shaking his head.

"Why the hell not?" Dean growled, narrowing his eyes at his little brother.

"You're probably already ashamed of me enough as it is," Sam said, shaking his head. He sighed, grabbing his toothbrush again and starting towards the bathroom.

Dean caught Sam's upper arm, pulling him towards himself. Dean looked into Sam's eyes, shaking his head. "Do I look ashamed to you?"

Sam looked into Dean's eyes for a few moments, then shook his head. "No, you don't."

"What _do_ I look like?" Dean asked, not moving his hand.

"You look…" Tears came to Sam's own eyes, and he fought them back, taking in a shaky breath. "Worried… scared…"

Dean nodded slightly. "Please talk to me," he begged, his eyes pleading. "Please."

Sam took in another shaky breath, then nodded. "Okay. Just as long as I get my sarcastic, asshole older brother back." He felt relieved when Dean smirked slightly.

"As long as I get my geeky, annoyinglittle brother back," Dean said, shrugging. He let go of Sam's arm. "Deal?"

Sam smirked slightly, shrugging. "What happened to 'No Chick Flick Moments'?"

"That jumped out the window when you put a knife to your arm." Dean crossed his arms, looking a bit annoyed. "Deal?" he repeated.

Sam sighed slightly, nodding. "Deal."

"Good," Dean said, nodding. "Sit. Relax. Speak." He sat down in a chair. "I got all the time in the world."

Sam sighed, taking in a deep breath. This was going to be a long day, he could already tell. He sat down on the bed, facing his brother.

* * *

**Dean**: Hmm…

**Haley**: What? Care to criticize?

**Dean**: Yes on the Sam hurting himself, no on the way I handled it.

**Haley**: Wow, that's a first.

**Sam**: Seriously…

**Dean**: Well, this is a complicated and serious issue… There's no room for jokes when your baby brother slits his wrists.

**Sam**: Dean?

**Dean**: What?

**Sam**: I'm not a baby. You can call me your little brother but you can't call me your baby brother. That's as bad as calling me Sammy.

**Dean**: Get over it, Sammy. You're my baby brother and there's nothing you can do about it. Neither can I, unfortunately.

**Sam**: Oh, Haha, that's real funny there, Dean.

**Dean**: **_Shrug_**. I thought so.

**Haley**: _Anyway_, stay tuned, guys!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter Three

**Set After**: Sometime after 'Nightmare', but 'The Benders' quotes and memories will be mixed in later (after it airs next week).

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: probably a few typos here and there...

* * *

"Please talk to me," Dean begged, his eyes pleading. "Please."

Sam took in another shaky breath, then nodded. "Okay. Just as long as I get my sarcastic, asshole older brother back." He felt relieved when Dean smirked slightly.

"As long as I get my geeky, annoying little brother back," Dean said, shrugging. He let go of Sam's arm. "Deal?"

Sam smirked slightly, shrugging. "What happened to 'No Chick Flick Moments'?"

"That jumped out the window when you put a knife to your arm." Dean crossed his arms, looking a bit annoyed. "Deal?" he repeated.

Sam sighed slightly, nodding. "Deal."

"Good," Dean said, nodding. "Sit. Relax. Speak." He sat down in a chair. "I got all the time in the world."

Sam sighed, taking in a deep breath. This was going to be a long day, he could already tell. He sat down on the bed, facing his brother.

"I don't even know where to start…"

Dean thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Just tell me what you were feeling last night. Tell me what the hell was going through your head that was bad enough to make you want to hurt yourself."

Sam sighed slightly, shaking his head. "Dean, this is hard."

"Why?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Because you're talking to me?"

"Well… yeah…" Sam said quietly, looking down at the ground.

"Would you rather talk to some shrink? Cause we can do that," Dean said, nodding. "We can find an office around here and set up a meeting with someone today. You don't have to talk to me about it if you don't want to."

Sam looked back up at his brother, looking a bit surprised. He knew that Dean wanted Sam to feel like he could talk to him about everything, since he always had been able to. And as he looked into his brother's eyes he could see the hurt masked underneath all the concern and fear.

Sam shook his head. "No, no shrink."

"Well, you have to talk to _someone_ about it," Dean said, looking a bit annoyed. "Who's it gonna be? Me? A shrink? Some random old guy giving bread to birds in the park? You can't just keep this all locked up, Sam."

Sam nodded slightly, looking back down at the floor. "Yeah, I know…" he said quietly.

"Well?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Who?"

"Can I get an aspirin?" Sam asked, rubbing his temples slightly.

"What, that loss of blood make it so you can't walk?" Dean muttered, sounding a bit annoyed. But he stood up and walked over to his bag, grabbing a bottle of pills. He handed it to Sam.

"Thanks," Sam said, unscrewing the cap and shaking a few into his hand before throwing them in his mouth, swallowing without the need for water. He looked up at Dean, who was watching him intently. He sighed, shaking his head, a pained chuckle escaping his lips. "You. I'll talk to you."

"Okay," Dean said, nodding. "Take your time… don't rush."

Sam nodded slightly, taking a couple silent deep breaths. "Well, I just… I couldn't deal with it anymore, Dean. Mom and Jess's death… they were my fault. Mom died protecting me… Jess died just because she knew me. And then I had a dream… And I figured that if he didn't have anyone to come for then it wouldn't come true…"

Dean waited for a couple moments, making sure Sam was done talking for the moment, before speaking. "What was the dream about?" Sam shook his head, looking away from his brother. "Sam."

Sam looked back at Dean slowly, tears in his eyes. "I had a dream that you died; you died the same way Mom and Jess did, and it was because of me. I didn't want that to happen."

"Sam, it was probably your head messing with you," Dean said, rolling his eyes slightly. "You feel that it's your fault so your mind was helping you sort things out. It was probably just a normal dream."

"No, it wasn't," Sam whispered, shaking his head. "It was so real, Dean. I could _feel_ the heat of the fire… I… I still remember what I felt when I was forced to stand there… staring at you burn with no way to stop it… It felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest… I didn't want you to die so I did the only thing I could think of to stop it."

"Killing yourself?" Dean asked. He sighed slightly, standing up. Sitting down next to his brother, he shook his head. "I don't care what kind of dream you had about me, Sam, I would _never_ want you to trade in your life for mine. Do you understand me?"

"Dean, if you died, I --"

"Do you understand me?" Dean repeated, his voice a little louder than before.

Sam nodded, looking down at the ground. "Yeah, I understand you. But still, Dean…" He looked back up at his brother. "It's my fault."

"No, it's not," Dean said softly, shaking his head. "It's not your fault, Sam. I wish you would stop saying that. You're starting to sound like a broken record. And not of a good band, either."

"How can you just sit there and stare at me as if I didn't kill Mom?" Sam asked, more tears coming to his eyes.

"Because you didn't," Dean said slowly, yet forcefully. "That demon did. You were a baby, how could have killed her? Because you're a freakin psychic and it wanted you? So what if it did? Mom would have died protecting you. She would have died because she loved you enough to make sure nothing happened to you. It wasn't your fault."

Sam swallowed hard, looking back down at the ground. "It feels like it was," he whispered, a tear falling.

Dean sighed in annoyance, putting his head in his hands. He was beginning to get stressed out. How do you convince your stubborn ass little brother of something when he had his mind set on something else? It wasn't an easy task, but Dean knew that if he didn't keep going at it then the next time he might not wake up in time… He knew that if he didn't convince Sam that none of it was his fault that he'd find his brother in the bathroom, his arms cut up, with no pulse… he wouldn't let that happen. He _couldn't_ let that happen.

"Sam, please," Dean begged, looking up at his brother. "Please stop."

"Stop?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. He let out a chuckle that held anything but amusement and humor.

"Stop beating yourself up!" Dean yelled, standing up quickly. "Stop blaming yourself! Stop…" Tears came to Dean's eyes and he swallowed hard. "Stop threatening to leave me again. I wouldn't be able to handle that."

Sam nodded slightly, standing up. He grabbed his brother and pulled him close, hugging him tightly. He was surprised when Dean hugged him back without a moment of hesitation.

"Please stop," Dean whispered, holding onto Sam tightly, afraid that if he let him go that Sam would leave.

Sam nodded slightly. "I won't hurt myself again. I promise."

* * *

"Howdy there, boys," a waitress said, walking up to Sam and Dean's table. After they had gotten control of themselves, and after Sam had washed up, they had left the motel to go get some breakfast, and was now at a diner across the street from Gary's Bar and Grill. "How is your breakfast coming along?"

Dean grinned like an idiot at the waitress. The woman in question could give Sophia Bush a run for her money. She had long brown hair and a slim, girly body. She wasn't too short, but definitely wasn't too tall. Her lips were pink and heart shaped, and her face looked as if it was made for an angel. "Actually --"

"It's fine," Sam interrupted, rolling his eyes slightly at his brother. "Thanks."

"Would you like me to bring ya'll the check?" the woman asked, not taking her eyes off of Dean.

"Please," Sam said, looking back at the newspaper he was holding.

"Alright. I'll be back in a jiffy." The woman smiled at Dean before leaving the table.

"I'd like to exercise _her_," Dean said, watching her leave. Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Dean looked over at the newspaper that was hidding his brother, then at his plate. "You haven't even touched your food."

"So?" Sam asked, not bothering to look at his brother; he remained behind the paper.

"So," Dean started, grabbing the paper from a very annoyed Sam, "not eating is just a slower way of killing yourself."

"I'm fine with coffee," Sam said, shrugging. He reached for the paper, but Dean pulled back a bit. "Dean, give it to me."

"As soon as you eat a pancake," Dean said, shrugging.

Sam shook his head, chuckling slightly. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking around here?" Dean asked, his face serious.

Sam groaned in annoyance. "One pancake?"

"One pancake," Dean said, nodding. "Then the college boy can have his precious newspaper back."

Sam glared at his brother, clearly annoyed. He then grabbed his fork, starting to dig into the pancake. Both Sam and Dean knew that it'd be easy for Sam to get another newspaper. They both knew that he was only eating to satisfy Dean, and that made Dean happy. He was happy that while he was trying to help Sam, Sam wasn't pulling away like he had before… he was letting Dean help.

"There," Sam said, setting down his fork after a few minutes, one of his pancakes gone. "Happy now?"

"Yup," Dean said, grinning. He handed the paper back to his brother.

The woman returned, handing the check to Dean. "I hope to see ya'll again _real_ soon. Think you'll be stopping by for dinner before you head out of town?"

"I think we just might," Dean said, grinning up at her. "Will you be working?"

"I sure will be," the woman said, smiling flirtatiously at Dean.

"We'll be back," Dean said, watching as the woman winked at him before leaving.

Sam shook his head. "Only you, Dean."

"What?" Dean asked defensively, looking over at his little brother.

Sam appeared from behind the paper, looking a bit amused. "Only you could get hit on by a married southern woman."

"Married?" Dean asked, his face quickly falling.

"She had a ring," Sam said, shrugging, before looking back at the paper.

"Damn," Dean cursed, shaking his head a bit. "I knew she was too good to be true."

"Let's go," Sam said, standing up from the table. He grabbed the bill from his brother's hands, looked at it, then grabbed his wallet. Grabbing a couple bills, he threw them on the table.

"What's the rush?" Dean asked, also standing up.

Sam looked over at his brother, but his eyes caught on someone outside the window behind Dean. His eyes went wide slightly. Jess was standing there, her hair gently being pushed by the light breeze, in her white nightgown. She locked eyes with Sam before looking over at Gary's Bar and Grill, pointing to it.

Dean turned around slowly. He then looked at his brother, his eyebrows raised. "Sam?" When Sam didn't respond, he waved a hand in front of his face. Sam immediately looked over at him. "You okay?"

"Did you see her?" Sam asked, quickly looking back at the window. Jess wasn't there anymore, she was gone…

"See who?" Dean asked, looking back at the window.

Sam stared for a moment longer, willing her to come back, before shaking his head. "No one, never mind." He looked back at Dean. "Let's go over to Gary's Bar and Grill."

"You just want to go? Without research?" Dean asked, and rolled his eyes when Sam nodded. "Sam, we don't know what's over there."

"So? We can at least check it out first," Sam said, grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door. "Let's go."

* * *

**Haley**: There's these woods behind to my house and I was think about exploring them later today.

**Dean**: Sure, if you wanna get yourself killed.

**Haley**: They're not dangerous!

**Sam**: Have you studied up on them?

**Haley**: On trees? Are you kidding me?

**Dean**: You're gonna get yourself killed.

**Haley**: Let's talk about this chapter, shall we?

**Sam**: What's up with Gary's?

**Haley**: Hehehe… you'll see. **_Pause_**...**_Sad sigh_**.

**Dean**: What's wrong with you now?

**Haley**: I get that this is an serious issue and everything, but I don't feel like I'm portraying you right. I mean, really. You're all… not you. I don't know, maybe I'm losing my touch or maybe I'm just being paranoid. Though, I have to say, that if I'm losing my touch then after this story all my readers can say bye-bye to the hope of new Supernatural stories from me… If I can't portray the characters right them I'm not gonna portray them at all.

**Sam**: I think you're doing fine.

**Haley**: Meh…


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter Four

**Set After**: Sometime after 'Nightmare', but 'The Benders' quotes and memories will be mixed in later (after it airs next week).

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: torture; intended rape; probably a few typos here and there...

* * *

Sam opened his eyes slowly, groaning in pain when he felt like his head was going to split open. He immediately closed his eyes again, wincing in pain.

"Sammy? You alright?"

Sam took a few deep breaths, calming down as he heard the familiar voice. "Yeah, I'm fine… What happened?" He then realized that he was tied up, and he opened his eyes quickly, ignoring the pain shooting through his head. He looked around, noticing that he was in a room of some kind. A bedroom. His eyes then landed on Dean, who was chained to the wall. Looking down at himself, and behind him as best as he could, he found that he was tied up to a metal pole of a desk, his legs tied up tightly to his chest.

"We stepped into the alley way of Gary's Bar and Grill. A log came down on your head, knocking you out," Dean explained, nodding slightly. "I tried to kill the bitch, but she knocked me out, too. Next thing I know I wake up here and you're over there still unconscious."

"How long have you been awake?" Sam asked, tugging at the rope.

"A little while," Dean said, nodding.

"God, Dean, what have you been doing the whole time?" Sam asked, chuckling slightly.

"Making sure you were still breathing," Dean said, shrugging as best he could.

"Oh. Well… thanks," Sam said lamely, looking a little shocked.

"Oh, so you're awake now?"

Sam looked over at the doorway where a woman was standing. But she looked… like Jessica? "What the hell?"

"That's exactly where I am," the demon said, walking towards Sam slowly. "And it's all your fault."

"Sam, don't listen to her! It's the demon!" Dean yelled, struggling against his chains. He looked over at his little brother, who had a look of guilt on his face. "Sam!"

"You know it's true," the demon said, kneeling down in front of Sam. "You should have told me the truth. You should have saved me. I died because of you! I died because I _knew_ you! It's all your fault, Sam!"

"It's… It is," Sam said, nodding slowly. "I'm sorry, Jess."

"Sam! God Damnit!" Dean yelled. "Don't listen to her! It's not your fault!"

The demon turned to Mary, slowly walking towards Dean now. "What? You don't blame him for my death? You don't blame him each and every day because you don't have your mother with you anymore?"

"No, I don't," Dean growled, glaring at the demon. "It wasn't his fault."

"Deep down you know it was," the demon said softly, placing a hand on Dean's cheek. "You know that if your brother had never been born that I'd still be alive. You'd be normal, your father would be normal… We'd have the perfect family, Dean. It's Sam's fault we don't. The demon wanted him, so it attacked. If he hadn't been born it would have left our family alone."

"How dare you," Dean hissed, struggling against his chains. "How dare you even speak his name."

"Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam." The demon smirked at Dean, crossing her arms.

"You bitch!" Dean yelled, attempting to hit or kick her. But he couldn't; both his wrists and ankles were chained against the wall. So he spit on her.

The demon gasped, wiping the spit away from her face. She laughed slightly. "Bad idea." She turned around, turning into Dean.

"No," Dean whispered, shaking his head. "Don't. Please."

The demon walked towards Sam slowly. "It's all your fault, Sam. You know it is. And I just can't wait for the day when you finally break down completely and manage to kill yourself. I'll be free from the burden that you are."

"Shut up!" Dean yelled, now making plenty of noise trying to get out of his chains.

"It's your fault Mom's dead. She should have just let the demon take you," the demon spat, glaring at Sam as he kneeled down next to him. "It's your fault Dad made us spent our lives hunting. It's all your fault, Sam. I could have had a normal childhood. But I couldn't. Why? Because of _you_."

"Please stop," Sam whispered, swallowing hard. He looked as if he was trying to back up a bit, and his breathing was irregular. "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry."

"Sam, no!" Dean yelled, his eyes going wide. He was panicking, and he was worried. Why was Sam buying into this shit?

"You caused me so much pain over the years, Sam. Since I was four years old and I had to carry you out of that house," the demon said, reaching for something on the desk. "I never wanted a little brother. I always hated you, hoping that one day you'd be killed on a hunt. I hope you die and burn in hell." He then pulled back a knife before stabbing Sam in the arm.

"NO!" Dean yelled as he heard his brother scream out in pain. "Stop it, you motherfucking stupid bitch!"

The demon turned to Dean, smirking slightly. "You were thinking the exact same thing."

"I would _never_ think that about Sam," Dean growled, glaring at the demon. "Leave him alone."

"Sorry, can't," the demon said, shrugging slightly. Finally she changed back to herself. She had long red hair and freckles. She was thin and tall, and one would've guessed that she was as innocent as can be at a first glance. "I'm a special kind of demon. One who feeds on the pain of those who are depressed."

"Sammy's not depressed," Dean growled, trying to convince himself more than the demon.

"Then why was I called to him?" she asked, walking towards Dean slowly. "I wouldn't have been if he was healthy. You're brother's depressed, Dean. And I'm feeding off of it."

"You bitch," Dean spat. "When I get out of here I'm going to --"

"To what? Drag your brother's lifeless body away?" She laughed before turning back to Sam. "I think I'll save your father for later… Torture sounds more fun right now."

"Please, no," Dean whispered, his eyes pleading as she watched her walk over to the fireplace, where a metal stick was laying in the fire, the end of it red hot. There were a few more in there, and Dean didn't want to think about what she was going to do with them. "Please don't hurt him."

The demon put on gloves before pulling out a metal stick. She walked over to Sam, grabbing the collar of his shirt and ripping it, exposing his bare chest.

"Don't!" Dean yelled, his breath quickening. "Stop it!"

The demon looked at him for a moment, smirking, before turning back to Sam, poking his chest with the hott end. He screamed in pain, and Dean thought that he was going die at the sound. He couldn't stand it. Especially when she repeatedly stuck Sam, who kept screaming.

"STOP IT!" Dean screamed, tears coming to his eyes. "Stop hurting him, please."

"What do you say, Sam?" the demon asked, turning to the youngest Winchester. "Should I stop and torture Dean for a while, or should I continue with you?"

Sam took a few deep breaths, his eyes closed tightly in pain. After a few moments he opened them, locking eyes with Dean. He swallowed hard. "Don't hurt him."

"Sorry, Dean, but the jury has reached a verdict," the demon said, shrugging. "I'll be back." She then left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Sammy, no," Dean whispered, tears coming to his eyes. "I can stand pain more than you can."

"I'm not going to let her hurt you because of me," Sam whispered.

Dean sighed slightly, shaking his head. "I'm the older brother. I'm supposed to protect _you_. Let me do that."

Sam shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Oh, yeah, you sounded _real_ fine when you were screaming in pain," Dean said, rolling his eyes. He sighed, shaking his head. "Sam, about what she said to you --"

"What happened to 'no Chick Flick Moments'?" Sam asked, slightly amused.

Dean ignored his brother, continuing. "None of it was true. Don't you believe that for a second, do you understand me?"

Sam sighed slightly, nodding. "Yeah. I understand you."

"Aw, how touching," the demon said, walking back into the room slowly. "Too bad it's not going to last long." She pulled an athame out from behind her back. "Sam, you don't mind being my sacrifice, do you?"

Sam swallowed hard. "Sacrifice for what?"

"For my cult," the demon said, shrugging slightly. "Of course, I'll have to give you a special kind of lap dance before I do."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked coldly, glaring at her as she walked between the two.

"Let's just say that it's fun," the demon said, shrugging. She walked over to Sam and smirked down at him. She set the athame down on the desk top and grabbed a needle, the kind that doctors used to give injections.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked quickly, watching her every move without blinking an eye.

The demon looked over at him, smirking evilly. Her eyes lingered on his for a moment before she turned back to Sam. Putting a hand on his arm, she stuck the needle in, quickly and roughly injecting the drug into his system. "Shouldn't take long at all," she said, standing up.

"What did you do to him?" Dean growled. "What the hell did you just put in him?"

"Something that will make him easier to handle. I'll be back." She then left the room.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, swallowing hard.

"It's Sam," Sam said quietly, his eyes closing slowly.

"Sammy, c'mon. Stay awake," Dean pleaded, looking around the room. How were they going to get out of this mess?

"It's… so… hard…" Sam whispered, his head falling on his shoulder.

"I know it is," Dean said, nodding. "I know, Sam. But you have to." When Sam shook his head, Dean sighed slightly. He had to think of something quick. "Tell me about Jess."

Sam smiled, opening his eyes slightly as he looked over at Dean, his words slow. "She was great. An angel. She was so kind, and funny… So loving and compassionate. She also reminded me of you in a way."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, willing to do or say anything that would keep his brother awake. "How?"

"She was really sarcastic," Sam said, chuckling slightly. "A good sarcastic. And she loved me for me. She didn't try to make me into anything I'm not."

"And how does that remind you of me?" Dean asked, his voice soft. That didn't sound like him at all.

"Dad was the one who pushed," Sam said, his words still slow. "You didn't push… You just kept me safe."

Dean smirked slightly, nodding. "That's what big brothers do." When he noticed Sam's eyes droop a bit, he cleared his throat. "Tell me more about Jess."

Sam opened his eyes again, straightening up in a way that Dean knew must be uncomfortable. "I loved her… I wanted to marry her. I had actually checked around for engagement rings the day before you came…" Tears came to his eyes. "Whether or not the interview went well I was gonna propose to her."

"Sam…" Dean said softly, his eyes sympathetic. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't know," Sam said, shaking his head. "It's okay."

"I'm back," the demon sing songed, walking into the room again. She looked over at Sam, who was struggling to stay awake. "Aw, that's no fun. I'll just have to wake you up some." She knelt down in front of him, untying his legs from his body. She then grabbed the athame, slowly cutting an upside down pentagram on Sam's chest.

Dean knew it was hurting Sam like hell, but the younger Winchester wasn't making a sound, only closing his eyes tightly in pain. He knew it was partly because of him… because he didn't want Dean to worry. But, hell, Dean was worrying.

After the demon was finished she set the athame on the desk, running her hands down Sam's chest, then stomache, until her fingers collided with the hem of his pants. She smirked, slowly unbuttoning them, then unzipping them.

"No, stop it!" Dean yelled, his eyes going wide when he realized she had every intention of raping his little brother. "Leave him the fuck alone!" When she started to pull Sam's pants down Dean struggled against his chains, pulling at them. "You bitch! Stop putting your hands on my brother! STOP IT!"

The demon looked up at Dean. "God, you're annoying." She waved her hand at Dean then turned back to Sam.

Dean tried to yell at her again but… he couldn't. He couldn't even breathe.

* * *

**Dean**: You little--

**Haley**: Ah, ah, ah. No time to argue with me right now. It's late. I gotta go!

**Dean**: But the next chapter --

**Haley**: You can yell at me all you want. As long as you do me one favor.

**Dean**: What's that?

**Haley**: In _Life Changes_ you called Anna a 'blonde monster'… I know it's my fault, but it made her sad. I was talking to her over MSN Messenger and she was sad **_Nawd_**.

**Dean**: **_Rolls eyes_**. Anna, you're not a blonde monster. You're actually very attractive, and I'm sorry for calling you names. **_Turns to Haley_**. Happy?

**Haley**: Yup! Thanks! Anyway, stay tuned, guys!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter Four

**Set After**: Sometime after 'Nightmare', but 'The Benders' quotes and memories will be mixed in later (after it airs next week).

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: torture; intended rape; probably a few typos here and there...

* * *

"There, he won't bother us anymore," the demon said, smirking as she looked back at Sam. She then frowned, realizing that Sam's eyes were open in fear as he watched his brother struggling. Sighing, she looked back at Dean for a moment. "Sam, honey, you'll do whatever I ask if I stop killing your brother, right?" She looked back at Sam, a smug look on her appearance.

Sam nodded quickly. "What-Whatever you want. Anything... Just... Just please stop." He looked back at Dean, who was shaking his head fercly. "Please."

The demon sighed. "Curse my good heart." She looked over at Dean and waved a hand, satisfied as she watched him breath.

"Then again, I'd rather kill you," Sam said before kicking at her, which was hard, since his pants were a quarter of the way down his legs. He kicked her one more time, but this time in the head, knocking her out.

"Sam, are you okay?" Dean asked, looking down at the unconscious demon. "What'd she do to you?"

"Dean, you were right there. You _know_ what she did to me," Sam said, rolling his eyes. He started slowly turning around, causing the bar to burn his skin slightly. When he was at the right angle, below the desk, squatting, he kicked the desk a few times until the athame fell down, right next to his arm.

"Careful!" Dean said quickly. "Yeah, I was right here. But she was blocking part of my vision. Did she... you know... touch you?"

"Touch me?" Sam asked, looking up at his older brother like he was insane.

Dean swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah. Did she touch you?"

"Gee, I don't know, Dean," Sam said sarcastically. "I don't think I'd be tied down if she hadn't touched me."

"Damnit, Sam!" Dean yelled, rolling his eyes. "You know what I mean. Did she... molest you?"

Sam smirked slightly. "Not the way you're questioning." He then moved around the bar again, slowly moving the athame towards his hands with his legs.

"Good," Dean said quietly, nodding. "How's your chest?"

"Fine," Sam said, wincing as the athame cut his leg slightly. He finally maneuvered the athame close enough to where he could reach it, and slowly started sawing at the rope.

"Be careful," Dean warned, watching his brother closely. "Don't cut yourself."

"I think cutting myself is the least of my problems at the moment," Sam said, letting out a pained chuckle. Finally the rope gave way and he sighed in relief, rubbing his wrists. Quickly standing up, he looked around. "Dean, you were awake longer than I was. Did you see a key anywhere?"

"Yeah," Dean said, nodding. "Second drawer to the left."

Sam immediately opened the drawer, shifting through its contents. After a few moments he held up a key, then ran over to Dean, unlocking the chains around his feet. "Did she hurt you?"

"Not really, no," Dean said, shaking his head as he watched it brother. "She didn't whisper any curses over there, did she? Foreign tongue or any of that voodoo crap?"

Sam shook his head, unlocking the chains around Dean's wrists. "No, why?"

"Good," Dean said, eyeing the pentagram on Sam's chest. "Because I _really_ don't feel like warding off curses at the moment just to save your ass." He walked over to the demon and knelt down next to her. "Give me the athame."

"Dean --"

"Give it to me!"

Sam hesitated for a moment, then walked back over to the desk, grabbing the athame. He handed it to his brother, who looked it over for a second before sticking it under the demon's chin.

The demon opened her eyes slowly, then gasped. "No, please, don't."

"Wow, starting to sound like me," Dean growled. "You hurt my brother. You wanted to rape him. You actually think I'm just going to let you go?"

"The ritual... the sacrifice!" the demon pleaded, tears coming to her eyes. "Please don't kill me. Please!"

"Right, the sacrifice," Dean said, nodding slightly. "Well, how about we just sacrifice you instead? See, cause, if I let my brother die my dad's not gonna be happy. And I _really_ don't want to listen to him yelling at me when I'm twenty seven."

"I won't hurt him again. I promise," the demon pleaded, a couple tears falling. "Just don't kill me. I'm sorry." She looked over at Sam, straining her eyes a bit since she couldn't move her head. "I'm sorry!"

Sam felt a bit uneasy, shifting his weight from side the side. "Dean --"

"We are _not_ letting her go," Dean growled, not bothering to look up at his brother. His eyes were filled with hatred as he looked at the female demon, and if it wasn't for him enjoying her suffering he would've killed her already. "Any last words?"

"Actually, yes," the demon said, looking up at Dean. She then started speaking in Latin, her voice growing louder with each word.

Dean gave her a disgusted expression, then pulled back the athame, stabbing her in the heart. "I _know_ you didn't just try to sacrifice my brother." He stood up, and kicked her. "Bitch." He looked over at Sam, taking in his wounds. Numerous burn marks on his chest; the pentagram etched into his torso; a cut on his leg from the athame, which was sporting a nice trail of blood; and the stab wound in his arm. "Damn, Sammy, we need to get you to the hospital."

"It's Sam. And how the hell are we going to explain the pentagram?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. He watched his brother open his mouth, then close it quickly, looking stumped. "I'm fine. It's nothing some good first aid won't fix."

Dean looked hesitant, but nodded, walking over to his brother. "Alright. If you say so. But if you start bleeding to death in the middle of the night I'll kill you. I _really_ don't want to have to explain to another motel manager why there's red stains on the sheets."

Sam smirked slightly, nodding. "I'll be fine. Unless there's some cult hospital out there --"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dean said, rolling his eyes. He looked around the room and, upon not seeing anything in the form of a jacket or sweater, took off his own leather jacket, handing it to his brother.

"Dean, the blood --"

"It's freezing out there. Besides, I'd rather the blood get on the jacket than my car." Walking out of the room, Dean grabbed his brother, dragging him along with him.

* * *

Dean woke up in the middle of the night, immediately looking over at his little brother's bed. Oh no, Sam wasn't there. Not a good sign. Dean looked over at the bathroom, finding light coming from under the door. Another bad sign.

Dean jumped out of bed and ran over to the bathroom, kicking it open, where Sam was standing over the sink... washing his hands.

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother. "Can't a guy go to the bathroom in peace?"

Dean swallowed hard, looking embarrassed. He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Um... sorry. I just thought that... that you..."

"That I was trying to kill myself again?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows. He walked past Dean into the room, sitting down on his bed.

"Well, it happened while I was sleeping before, Sam. Can you blame me?" Dean asked, walking after his brother. He turned on the light, sitting down on his own bed. "And then with all those things the demon said... hell, I'm just happy she didn't move on to Dad."

Sam smiled weakly, nodding. "I won't lie to you Dean, it's not like I wasn't thinking about it. I mean --"

"Sam --"

"What she said made sense... But that's only because that was exactly what I was thinking," Sam said, nodding slowly.

"What?" Dean asked, looking a bit surprised.

"She didn't create those ideas out of thin air, Dean. Those were my exact thoughts. She just made them... a little more believable," Sam said, nodding slightly. He shrugged. "It's no big deal."

"'No big deal?' Sam, she told you that I thought you were a burden!" Dean said, standing up quickly. His eyes were sad, and worried. He couldn't believe his little brother would think those things. His _baby brother_. "That I hated you! That I..." He took a few deep breaths. "How could you think that I actually think that?"

Sam looked down at the floor, shrugging. "I don't know, I mean... I... All my life you've had to look out for me." Sam looked back up at his brother, tears in his eyes. "Dad yelling at you when something happened to me, or... or you being the one who had to find me when I ran off... I just realized that those are burden qualities."

"Sammy," Dean said softly. He sat down next to his brother, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You're not a burden, you're my baby brother. Sure, looking after you is hard sometimes, but... but it's worth it."

"Yeah?" Sam asked, looking into his brother's eyes.

"Yeah," Dean whispered, nodding. "God, Sam, no wonder you wanted to kill yourself. With all those thoughts swimming throughout your head. That I blame you, that Jess blames you... that even _Mom_ blames you. You need to start opening up more when I say we need to talk. Do you understand me?"

Sam nodded slightly, looking down at the ground.

"Sam, you answer me with your voice or I swear I'm gonna smack you," Dean said, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

Sam smiled slightly, nodding. He looked up at Dean. "I understand you."

"Good," Dean said, nodding. Standing up he turned off the light. As he watched Sam crawl under his covers he leaned over him, giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Good night, Sammy."

"Night, Dean," Sam said, closing his eyes. He listened to his brother climb into his bed, then thought for a moment, biting him bottom lip. "Hey, Dean?"

"What?" Dean asked, already sounding on the verge of sleep.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

Dean groaned slightly. "Yeah, fine. Get your five year old ass over here and don't bleed on me."

Sam smiled slightly, then walked over to his brother's bed, climbing in. He rested his head on the pillow, closing his eyes. "Night, Dean."

Dean swung a protective arm around Sam, closing his own eyes. "Good night, Sammy."

* * *

**Haley**: You're crazy if you think that's the end. I still have to work in one more character, plus something that happens with Sam, and a couple more things! We still have _at least_ four chapters left! But it would've made a cute ending, huh? Heh...

**Dean**: 'Something that happens with Sam?' Like what?

**Haley**: Sorry, can't tell you.

**Sam**: I think I probably know what it is.

**Dean**: How can you know and I can't?

**Sam**: Gee, Dean, I don't know. Maybe because it has to deal with me? I know how my mind works better than you.

**Dean**: Oh, c'mon! I don't want to be left out in the dark here!

**Haley**: Ugh, fine. **_Leans over and whispers something in Dean's ear_**.

**Dean**: **_Wide eyed_**. I'll kill you!

**Haley**: You'll have to catch me first! **_Runs away_**!

**Dean**: You think you can outrun me? Ha! **_Runs after Haley_**!

**Sam**: Since Haley and Dean are out acting like children and playing tag I guess I'll wrap this one up. Which I don't mind, cause if you haven't noticed it's always 'Haley and Dean' this, 'Haley and Dean' that. I'm barely ever showed in these 'end of the chapter' things! Oh, and Ghostwriter? Haley says I'm all yours for the next couple days (while she writes out chapter 6) for a lovely donation of at least a dollar into her 'I need a job' fundraiser! _Anyway_, stay tuned! What Haley has in store will be a tear jerker, I can promise you that much! Bye!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter Six

**Set After**: Sometime after 'Nightmare', 'The Benders' quotes included.

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: self-harm; suicidal thoughts; probably a few typos here and there...

* * *

"Mistress, what do you wish for us to do?"

A woman with long black hair stood in the doorway of the dead demon's home, looking around. She was wearing a full body suit of black leather, and she wore sunglasses, her black boots slightly clicking on the linoleum floor. Four men walked behind her.

The woman faced the one to her right, smirking slightly. "We'll take over. Those humans killed my sister, and I'll be damned if I let them get away with it. But this time we'll get them _my_ way… not hers. I'll kill the youngest off first, without his brother even realizing it was me." She lowered her sunglasses slightly, her red eyes darting around the house slowly, taking in every detail of her new home.

* * *

"Sam, I'm going out to get breakfast. What do you want?" Dean called through the motel bathroom door, knocking slightly.

Sam opened the door, facing his brother as he thought slightly. After a moment he shrugged. "Nothing?"

Dean smirked slightly, and actually chuckled a bit. "That's funny. No, really, what do you want?" He crossed his arms, looking amused, but, yet, serious.

Sam rolled his eyes, then sighed, nodding. "Whatever you pick up is fine."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked, walking over to the chair and grabbing his coat, pulling it on. When Sam nodded Dean shrugged. "Alright. Bagels and coffee it is then. Any objections?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Sam said, nodding. He walked over to his bed and sat down, his hands shaking slightly. He grabbed onto them, hoping to make them stop before Dean noticed. But, alas, no luck.

"Hey, you alright?" Dean asked, shooting Sam a worried glance.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Sam said, smiling weakly at his brother. "I probably just need something to eat. Go get breakfast."

"You're sure?" Dean asked, looking hesitant. "Cause I can always just order something."

"No, Dean, really, I --" Sam suddenly broke off, closing his eyes tightly in pain as he held his head. He gasped for air, a pained expression upon his face.

"Sam!" Dean ran over to his brother, and knelt down in front of him. "Sam?"

* * *

_"You killed her," the black haired woman growled, holding Dean up by his neck. "Do you know what's it feels like to just have your younger sibling ripped out from underneath you?" She looked over at Sam, who was pressed against the wall, a knife being held to his neck by an invisible force. "Well, now you will. I'll hurt you, and then make you watch me murder your baby brother while you slowly die yourself."_

_The woman threw Dean against the wall, where his body collided with a coat hanger. He took in a sharp gasp before he fell to the floor, the wound deep within his back. The woman then looked back at Sam, smirking._

_"Say 'bye-bye,' Sammy."_

* * *

Sam's focus quickly went back to his brother, who was looking both scared and worried. He swallowed hard, shaking his head. "Dean, she had a sister. She had an older sister."

"Who?" Dean asked, now starting to look confused. He slowly helped Sam back on the bed, and Sam realized that he had fallen off the bed.

"The demon we killed," Sam said, still holding onto his head a bit, the sharp pain still evident as he moved around. "She had an older sister. Someone who didn't want her to die. So… in my vision, she said that she was going to make you watch _me_ die. She… she threw you against the wall and you got stabbed in the back by a coat hanger… Then she turned back to me and… that was it."

"We're not going to let that happen," Dean said quickly, pushing some hair out of Sam's face. "Are you okay?" When Sam nodded Dean looked doubtful, and walked over to his bag, grabbing a bottle of Tylenol. He walked back over to his little brother and handed it to him. "Let me go get some water."

"No, no, this is fine," Sam said, unscrewing the cap. "Really. It's fine." He shook a couple into his hand then threw them into his mouth, quickly swallowing, and set the bottle back on the nightstand. When Dean reached to grab them Sam shook his head. "No. Don't."

"Why not?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"I might need them later." Sam sighed and laid back on his bed, closing his eyes softly. "Is it time to go to bed yet?"

"Not for another fourteen hours, Sammy," Dean said, smirking slightly. "I'll go get us some breakfast now."

"No," Sam said quickly, opening his eyes. "Until that woman is gone we shouldn't split up; she could use us against each other."

"I'll be gone ten minutes. Please," Dean said, chuckling slightly. He shook his head, disbelieving how paranoid his brother was being. He reached for the doorknob.

"Dean, I'm serious," Sam said, sitting up. "We shouldn't split up."

"Sam, we'll be fine. Don't be such a worry wart," Dean said, opening the door. Suddenly it closed quickly, and he backed up a bit, looking over at Sam.

Sam's eyes were wide, and he had no doubt in his mind that he had done that. He swallowed hard, looking over at Dean, who was staring at him. One look into Sam's eyes told Dean that his suspicions were correct. He thought for a moment, then nodded slightly, walking over to his bed, sitting down.

"Alright, I'll order," Dean said, nodding. "And if you _ever_ use your freaky powers on me again I'll kick your ass."

"I didn't mean to," Sam said softly, looking down at his hands. "Sorry."

Dean looked over at his brother and sighed slightly, nodding. He grabbed his phone and dialed, waiting a moment before someone picked up. "Doughnut house? Yeah, I'd like to order…"

Sam couldn't believe he had used his powers on his _brother_, of all people. Back when the demon was torturing them and molesting Sam he hadn't even managed to move a pen. And, yet… he had used his powers on Dean to keep him in the motel room. Sam just hoped that his older brother wasn't scared of him, wasn't fearing the fact that Sam could kill him in his sleep without meaning to. Maybe Sam should try and get away while he still could…

"Earth to Sam. Come in Sam." Sam blinked a few times, realizing that Dean was waving a hand in front of his face. Dean raised his eyebrows. "Where the hell were you just now?"

Sam shook his head, laying back down on his bed. "Thinking, sorry."

"I ordered some doughnuts and coffee," Dean said, sitting back down on his bed. "Alright?"

"Yeah, whatever," Sam whispered, staring up at the ceiling. He shivered slightly, remembering back to Jess. It was all his fault… "Maybe you should go get some ice or something from down the hall."

"For?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. He was staring at Sam like he was going off the deep end.

"Because I heard that it's going to get hot today," Sam said quietly, still staring up at the ceiling.

"It's winter," Dean said slowly, still staring at his brother.

"Well… maybe a drink from the bar downstairs," Sam said, looking over at his brother. "Yeah?"

"Um…" Dean looked over at the door, actually considering this, before looking back at Sam. "First you want me to leave, then you don't want me to leave, then you want me to leave? Sam, I'm trying, but I'm not keeping up here."

"Sorry," Sam said, softly. "But, really, a few beers never hurt anyone."

"You barely ever drink," Dean said softly, knitting his brow. "Sam, what's up?"

"Nothing," Sam said, shrugging. "I just… I'm suddenly in the mood for beer… and ice. Is that a crime?"

"No, but it sure as hell ain't normal," Dean said, standing up. "Fine, I'll go get us some beers. I'll be right back."

Sam nodded, and watched his brother leave the room, still looking hesitant. He sighed in relief, then walked over to Dean's bed, grabbing the knife from under his pillow. It was all his fault. His mother died because she felt she had to protect him; she died because he was born. Jess died because he never told her the truth, and he didn't act on what his dream was telling him. Dean was going to die just because Sam was his little brother, and Sam had already caused him pain throughout the years. And his dad… well, his dad had never been proud of him, had never accepted him. It seemed the older man always hated his youngest son. Well… now he wouldn't have anyone to hate.

Sam walked into the bathroom and locked the door, staring at himself in the mirror. He had to do this. He had to end this trail of pain. This was the only solution.

Sam placed the knife on his wrist, hesitating for a moment. He then punctured his skin, wincing, before digging in deeper. He couldn't help but let out a soft cry of pain, before pulling the knife up close to his elbow. There. Now he could bleed, and hopefully would be dead before Dean got back… It was better this way. Everyone would just be… better.

* * *

Dean walked into the motel room five minutes later, three beers in his hands. He looked around the room quickly, not noticing Sam. His heart stopping, his breath catching in his throat, Dean slowly looked over at the bathroom door, noticing the light on. He knew Sam had wanted him out of the room for some reason!

Dean dropped the beers where he stood and ran over to the bathroom door, kicking it down. And there Sam was, a knife in his hand, his arm bleeding badly. Sam was already so pale as he sat on the seat, watching the blood drip onto the floor.

"Sam, give me the knife," Dean said calmly, walking over to his brother slowly.

"No," Sam said quickly, standing up. He held the knife in his hands, pointing it towards Dean. "Get out. Go. Just… go back to the bar, Dean."

"Sam, give me the knife," Dean repeated, with more force this time. He backed up slightly as Sam walked towards him, the knife outstretched.

"No." Sam swallowed hard, shaking his head. "This is the way it has to be. This way no one else gets hurt."

"Sam, please," Dean said, the beg slightly evident in his voice. "Just give me the knife. We can talk about this, alright? I'll get you help and then we'll talk about it."

"No," Sam whispered, looking even more pale than when Dean had stepped into the bathroom. "I don't want help. I just… I want it to end here, Dean. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Sam, if you die I swear I'll be in the worst pain _anyone_ could cause me," Dean whispered, his eyes darting to Sam's arm, which was so bloody you couldn't tell where the wound began and the blood ended.

"No, that's a lie," Sam said quickly, shaking his head. "You'll be better off without me, Dean. You won't have to deal with me anymore; you won't be burdened."

"Sam, you're not a burden. You're my baby brother," Dean said softly, repeating what he had said the day before. He couldn't believe they were going back to this. Hadn't he convinced Sam of this already? His own eyes were pleading as he looked into his brother's. "Just give me the knife. Please just give me the knife, Sam. I can't lose you. I refuse to lose you."

Sam looked down at the knife, which fell from his hand. His eyes then shut slowly, and he almost fell to the ground, before Dean had caught him.

"Don't worry, Sammy, it's going to be okay," Dean whispered, holding his brother close. He felt for a pulse, and was relieved when he found his brother was still alive. After some effort, he managed to lift up his brother. He knew that Sam would never forgive him for taking him to the hospital, where doctors would probably make him see a therapist, but… at least Sam would be alive to hate him.

* * *

**Haley**: Ugh. No cable, no phone line, no internet… Damn these wind storms! What the hell is going on with America these days? I swear it was never this windy in past winters! So why now? Why this year? Huh, huh, huh? 

**Sam**: Excuse Haley. She's a bit… upset.

**Haley**: You're damn right I'm upset! I've been without the internet for… **_Counts on fingers_**. … Eight and half hours! I'm going insane! I _need_ the internet! I need my friends! I need… the freakin phone line to start working!

**Sam**: Haley, just… calm down. Take deep breaths and calm down.

**Haley**: I've only been sane for the last hour because I've been working on this chapter… Now I have to go to bed since it's half past midnight. If the phone lines aren't working in the morning I'll be _so_ fucking pissed off.

**Dean**: And this coming from the girl who scolded her classmate for saying 'fuck.'

**Haley**: I only say it when I'm fucking pissed off, alright? So back off!

**Sam**: Um… Haley needs to go to bed now… So stay tuned!

**Dean**: If she kills you off I'll murder her in her sleep.

**Sam**: She already said herself that she can't kill her fanfics characters off. It's a weakness of hers.

**Haley**: I WANT MY PHONE LINE! I WANT MY INTERNET! I WANT MY CABLE! I WANT THESE FUCKING WIND STORMS TO STOP!

**Sam**: Um… Dean, you close. **_Takes Haley by the hand and leads her to her bed_**.

**Dean**: Uh… Review and tell me how hott you think I am! Bye!

* * *

**Haley**: Obviously I have my crap back or I wouldn't be on... but I was out my phone line for three days! Three stinkin days! **_Sob_**! 


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter Seven

**Set After**: Sometime after 'Nightmare', 'The Benders' quotes included.

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: probably a few typos here and there...

* * *

Sam opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the harsh bright light that threatened to blind him where he lay. As his eyes adjusted, he felt the pain in his left arm and heard the beeping sound coming from a machine close by. Great, he was in a hospital. Sam rolled his eyes and looked around, taking in the room around him. The window to his left showed a nice, sunny day out. Also to his left was a small bedside table, sporting Dean's keys, plus some water and a few other various things. There was a chair to his right that held Dean's leather jacket. A little ways beyond the chair was a door, which was slightly ajar. And in front of his bed was another door, closed, and Sam could only guess that it was either a closet or a bathroom. A TV also hung from the ceiling in front of him. The rest of the room was… well… white. Real exciting, huh? 

Sam looked over at the door as he heard a doctor's voice out in the hallway, followed by his brother's ranting.

"Mr. Morgan, we understand what you're saying, but your cousin --"

"Look, Sam has issues, yes. But they're issues _I_ can deal with. He doesn't need a shrink!"

Sam smirked slightly, shaking his head. Leave it to Dean to argue with a doctor about health issues. _Only him_, Sam thought, _only Dean_.

"Well, you haven't bee doing a very good job of that so far, now have you?"

"Why I oughta--!"

"Mr. Morgan… Ryan… your cousin needs serious help. Help that only a professional can provide. Now, if this is about money then we--"

"This isn't about money! I honestly think that I can help my cousin better than you quacks can! You don't know him, I do!"

"If this is about money then we can send him to a psychologist that will help your brother without asking for any pay. She's very good with these kinds of cases, and has helped out plenty of young teenagers--"

"My cousin's not a young teenager! He's in his twenties!"

"Well, yes, but she's good with helping those who are prone to suicidal thoughts."

"You ba--!"

"Ryan," Sam croaked out. He knew that if Dean pushed the doctor any more than he was already the guy would probably call security. Then who would stay with Sam? Dean knew he hated hospitals. The doctor and Dean quickly quieted down, and entered the room quickly. Good, Sam's plan had worked.

"Hey," Dean said softly, rushing over to Sam's bed. "You're awake."

"Thanks for that brilliant observation, Dr. Phil." Sam looked over at the doctor, who was watching the two silently. He then looked back at his older brother. "How long was I out?"

"A little longer than two days," Dean said quietly, his jaw flexing slightly. He looked back at the doctor. "Maybe we should let him decide."

"I don't want to go," Sam said immediately, suddenly looking panicked. He looked back and forth between Dean and the doctor. "I don't want a shrink. If I have to talk to someone I'll talk to my cousin. But I don't want a shrink."

"Sam, this is a matter of your mental health. If you do not see a psychologist about this then I'm afraid we'll have to commit you to the mental hospital a few towns over."

Dean glared at the doctor and quickly stood up, storming over to him. "You will do no such thing. I can take care of Sam. He doesn't need to see a shrink, and he doesn't need to be stuck in the nut house!"

"Mr. Morgan, please--"

"No!" Dean yelled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. What the hell was with this guy? "You--"

"Mr. Morgan, please calm down or I will be forced to call security. Now, Sam--"

"Then call security! I don't give a damn you son of a--!"

"I'll see her!"

Dean and the doctor looked over at Sam quickly, both a little shocked. Sam found himself getting uncomfortable under their unblinking gazes and swallowed hard, watching his brother walk over to him slowly.

"What?" Dean asked, still looking shocked as he sat down slowly in the chair next to the bed.

"I'll see the psychologist," Sam said quietly. He sighed, shaking his head as he looked up at the doctor. "We don't have much money."

"That's alright," the doctor said, seeming to have just come out of his shock. He looked satisfied now, and Sam just wanted to punch him and get the hell out of there. "I'll discuss the situation with her and then we'll set up an appointment for after you're physically well again." Sam nodded slightly. "I'll leave you with your cousin, then." He nodded at the two before leaving the room.

"Sam, what the hell?" Dean asked quickly. Though he didn't sound mad… he just sounded upset, and scared… but most of all worried. Sam was a little shocked, actually, that Dean wasn't jumping down his throat.

"What?" Sam asked innocently, looking down at his hands. He looked over at bedside table, eyeing the remote curiously. Maybe if he turned on the TV loud enough he wouldn't have to talk to Dean.

"You're willing to tell some shrink about everything but you won't tell me?"

Sam looked over at his brother, surprised when he saw the hurt in his brother's eyes… The pain in his expression…

"No chick flick moments," Sam said quietly. He shrugged and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV.

Dean growled in annoyance and grabbed the remote, quickly turning the television back off. "Sam, you know what I mean when I say that. Don't you dare use that against me now."

"Dean, I only agreed to see the psychologist because if you kept arguing with the doctor he would have had you thrown out of the hospital," Sam said, looking at his brother. The bitterness in his voice surprised even him. "Then who would've been here with me? Huh? Plus, if I didn't see the psych then they would have had me thrown into a mental institution."

"I wouldn't have let that happen," Dean said, shaking his head slightly. "We would've gotten out of here before they would've even been able to arrange a room for you over there."

"Yeah, well…" Sam chuckled painfully and shook his head, looking down at his bandaged arm.

"I need you to talk to me," Dean said quietly, also looking at Sam's arm. His eyes traveled to Sam's face, and it broke his heart when he saw the tears in his baby brother's eyes. "Please."

Sam looked over at Dean, noting the pleading look in his brother's eyes and expression. Dean just wanted to help. That's all he knew. All Sam's life Dean had been there, protecting him, without a backwards glance. He had always helped Sam hold his head up high, and had protected him from bullies and demons alike. Dean had always made sure his little brother was fed, clothed… healthy, happy… Sam knew he was just trying to help him, like he had in the past, but… this was a kind of pain that Dean couldn't make go away with a band aid and a joke. This pain was… it was planted deep and ached within Sam. But… if Dean wanted to help then there was no way around that. Sam would just have to suck it up and let him try.

Sam sighed, nodding slightly. "Alright. Fine. I… God, Dean, we've already gone over this before." Slightly annoyed, he crossed his arms, but quickly regretted doing so as pain shot up his arm, causing him cry out.

Dean carefully took Sam's arm in his hands, rubbing it gently. "Hey, it's alright. Just take deep breaths, okay? It'll pass. Just give it a moment."

Sam took a few deep breaths, his eyes closed tightly. But… soon his arm started to relax… It brought back memories, Dean rubbing his arm like that. It made him remember back when he was a kid and he'd wake up screaming in the middle of the night due to the pain of a charley horse. Dean would run into his room and rub whichever part of his body that wouldn't relax.

Sam opened his eyes slowly, looking down at his arm, where Dean continued to rub. He took in a few more deep breaths, then leaned back in the bed.

Dean rubbed Sam's arm for a few moments more, then took his hands away, nodding slightly. "I know we've talked about this before. I just… I don't understand why you're not getting it. Sam, no one blames you for anything. No one thinks you did _anything_. Why are you doing this to yourself? Why are you letting all this guilt consume you? Why are you just giving in?"

Sam looked over at Dean, and shook his head slightly. He then looked at the TV and swallow hard, tears coming to his eyes. No way, he couldn't cry. Not in front of Dean. He couldn't show weakness. But, yet… he couldn't help but let the single tear that taunted him fall and slowly glide down his cheek. "I miss her."

It didn't take a total genius to figure out that the 'her' that Sam was mentioning was none other than Jess. Dean sighed and nodded, lifting a hand and gently brushing away Sam's tear. He stood up and wrapped his brother in his arms. "I know, Sammy… I know you do," he whispered into his brother's hair, holding him a little tighter. "I know."

* * *

**Haley**: Ack, short, I know. Sorry! Dean, Sam, say hi before I go into some things, kay? 

**Sam**: Hi!

**Dean**: How come most of your reviewers said that, while I was hott, they were all for Sam?

**Haley**: **_Shrug_**. I dunno. Cause they're weird? Not that I mind. I'll throw them all Sam, then I'll only have to fight off a few gals for you! Oh, oh, oh! I just got an idea!

**Dean**: I'm scared now.

**Haley**: Shut up. Seriously, though, guys! Whoever writes me the longest review will have a guest appearance in my newest story! The first chap isn't even done, yet, but if you write me the longest review (and it can't be the same word over and over again, gals xD) will win the role of Sam's future wife. **_Nawd_**. You just have to tell me if you're interested in your review!

**Sam**: Dean, she's auctioning me off.

**Dean**: Who do I get once college boy is gone?

**Sam**: Oh, gee, thanks, Dean.

**Dean**: Seriously, who do I get?

**Haley**: Me and Anna! Duh!

**Dean**: Okay, it's a bad idea.

**Haley**: Whatever. Okay, guys, I have a few questions for ya'll. What the hell does WIP mean and what the hell is smarm or whatever? I saw those in the summaries for a couple fanfics I've read and I'm like "Wow, I'd probably love this story more if I knew what the hell that was." Oh, and what's with this 'Christo' crap? I read that in a couple stories and I was like "O.o Uh… What does that mean?" So, yes, anyone who can help me out with these questions will get… something! I don't know what exactly yet, but… Hmm… I'll sleep on it. Anyway, I'm tired and I have stuff to do before bed, so this is goodbye until the next chappie! I love all of ya'll! (Don't forget to tell me in a review just how much you love me too! xP) Say goodbye, Sam, Dean.

**Sam**: Bye!

**Dean**: I refuse to say goodbye. Last time I said that all I got was a 'your brother is better looking than you' review from… **_Counts_**… Okay, three people. But, still. Only six people commented on us, and one person didn't even choose!

**Haley**: **_Pat pat_**. Poor Deany. You're always loved by me! **_Hugglez Deany tightly_**!

**Dean**: Uh… bye! **_Runs away from Haley quickly_**!

**Haley**: Must we do this _again_? **_Runs after Dean_**!

**Sam**: Wow, this is really getting old… Stay tuned, guys!

* * *

**Haley**: Oh, and, before I forget _**is adding this as she's editting on the document editor**_thanks to everyone for your supportive words about my computer struggle. It helps to know that people out there are going through the same thing, you know? And that they care and just want you to stay sane! (Though I think the only reason you guys care is so I don't go crazy and stop writing... but whatever works xD) So, yes, thanks! Love ya'll! 


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter Eight

**Set After**: Sometime after 'Nightmare', 'The Benders' quotes included.

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: probably a few typos here and there...

* * *

"Now, Sam, let's start from the beginning."

The black haired demon sat in a chair opposite Sam in a small room about a week later. She had her hair up in a bun and small glasses rested on her nose. She also wore a professional looking skirt-suit. Her name tag sported the name 'Dr. Williamson.' She looked like a normal psychologist, to put it simply. Not dangerous in the least bit.

Sam shifted around in his seat uncomfortably. He looked over at the door, which was closed, then over at the other chair, which remained empty.

Williamson also looked over at the door, then back at Sam. She could tell she wouldn't get far if Sam wasn't comfortable telling her the things she needed to know. Besides, if Dean was in the room she could kill two birds with one stone... almost literally. Offering Sam a warm smile, she walked over to the door and opened it up, peaking into the waiting room. "Ryan? I think your cousin would like you in here with him."

Sam looked down at his hands, a lump forming in his throat. He knew that he had basically asked for it, but the only thing worse then telling a shrink about his problems without Dean next to him was telling one _with_ Dean next to him. But, yet, he looked up as Dean made his way into the room, and sat down in the chair next to Sam.

"Well, there we go. That's better, isn't it?" Williamson sat down in her own chair and smiled slightly, looking back and forth between the boys. Looking over at Sam, she grabbed a notebook and a pencil. "Sam, let's start from the beginning, shall we?" She grabbed a file and flipped through it, then set it down in her lap. "Your mother died in a fire, correct?"

"Yeah," Sam said softly, now looking down at his hands again. No way. Was this woman serious? He couldn't talk about his mom dying in front of Dean!

"Tell me about what happened that night."

Sam swallowed hard, shaking his head. "I was only a baby. I can't remember."

"Traumatic events such as that stick with a child, even one as young as you were."

Sam looked up at the psychologist, and sighed, nodding slightly. "I can barely remember. I... I just remember laying in my crib, and the yelling... the flames... the sounds of the fire truck... it's all in pieces."

Williamson nodded, jotting down notes here and there in her notebook. "Well, what have people told you about the night?"

"Um... she died in my nursery," Sam whispered, immediately feeling a stab of guilt. Guilt of his mother dying and the guilt that Dean had to relive all of this. Stealing a quick glance at Dean, his older brother gave him a slight nod, telling him to keep going with the story. Sam took a few deep breaths, then willed himself to look back at the shrink. "Someone broke into our house that night, and they stabbed her before setting her on fire. My... my father grabbed me and handed me to my brother, who then carried me out."

"Your brother." Williamson grabbed the file again, flipping through it. "Dean Winchester. He just died a few months ago, correct?"

Sam cleared his throat, to stifle the slight chuckle that had been released, then nodded. "Yeah. That's right."

"It says here that he was responsible for a few murders," the psychologist said, looking a bit surprised. "Well, no wonder you have some issues, growing up with an influence like him. I mean, really, he--"

"You don't know Dean like I do--did. Like I did." Dean rolled his eyes at his brother for slipping up like that. Sam ignored him and kept his eyes on the shrink. "He wasn't a bad guy. Really. Whenever my father was too busy to take care of me Dean was there in a flash. He wasn't a bad influence. Well, okay, he was, in a way. But he was better than my father."

"Do you hold any negative feelings towards your brother?" Williamson asked curiously.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Dean could always tell when he was lying, and Sam was pretty sure that he would be able to tell if he said 'no' to the woman. So either way Dean would know that Sam did, and at least talking about it would be getting it out. Sam knew that Dean only wanted for the youngest Winchester to get well again, and that's what talking about stuff was supposed to do, right? Help people get better?

"A couple," Sam said, nodding slightly. He could feel Dean's eyes on him, but he avoided looking at his brother at all costs.

"Like what?" Williamson asked, looking quite interested. This was good. Dean would get mad at Sam and hopefully it'd end in the two getting in a fight later. Perfect way to split them up and pick them off one by one. They'd pay. She'd make sure of it.

"He was always 'the perfect son'. Got everything he wanted, no questions asked." Sam still refused to look at Dean, and for a moment he forgot his older brother was there, and he just let his feelings pour out. "I tried so hard to make our father proud, but nothing I did was right. Dean... he would do the slightest thing and our father was off the wall with joy. And there was that whole 'pushing me into the family business' thing. He didn't even think about what I wanted. Ever."

"That's not true."

Williamson and Sam immediately looked over at Dean, who realized the mistake in his sudden words. Which, surprisingly, hadn't been filled with anger. In a way they had been emotionless... and it broke Sam's heart. How could he say those things in front of Dean? He was never going to forgive himself for this...

"I mean, um, Dean always thought about what Sam wanted," Dean said, nodding as he looked at the shrink, giving her a slight grin. "We were really close, you know, Dean and me..." Dean then looked over at Sam, shaking his head. "He always thought about it, Sam. He just wanted what was best for you, that's all."

When Dean offered Sam a slight smile, the guilt of saying those things eased a bit. Dean was saying that it was alright. Hell, they both knew that Dean thought a few things of Sam, too. It was only normal. They were brothers, after all.

"What about your girlfriend, Jess?" Williamson figured it was time to change the subject. She wasn't going where she wanted to with the resentment Sam felt towards Dean, so why waste time? Hell, she only had an hour with him. There was no point in lingering on something that wasn't going to happen.

"She... she died at the hand of the same person that killed my mother." Sam swallowed hard, looking down at his hands.

"Do we really have to go into her?" Dean asked quickly, breaking his concerned eyes from his brother, and over to the psychologist. "It's just a really... touchy subject for my cousin."

"I know. That's why we have to dive further into the subject," Williamson said, nodding. She looked back at Sam, smiling reassuringly at him. "Tell me about her, Sam. Tell me about some of the memories you two shared together."

Sam smiled sadly, looking up at Williamson. He thought for a moment, thinking back on Jess. God, that girl had been amazing. "We met my Sophomore Year at Stanford. It was actually at a frat party... a friend of mine had dragged me to it. Neither Jess or myself were really into it, and we ended up talking outside for most of the night."

"What did you two talk about?"

"Everything," Sam said, smiling slightly. "Politics, the college, the environment, TV shows and Hollywood... She had amazing opinions about everything, and I felt like I could talk to her all night."

"Did you ever talk to her about your family?"

Sam nodded slightly. "A couple times I did. We were doing some rearranging in our apartment and she stumbled upon a picture of me and Dean. She asked me about it, so I told her about it."

"What did you say?" Williamson was jotting all of this down. Hey, she needed to know the small details if she was going to successfully kill the brothers. The more facts the better, even if they didn't seem that important. She learned that each and every small thing mattered.

"Well, it was a picture of Dean and myself at the beach when I was, I don't know, I think about twelve." Sam smiled slightly at the memory. "I told her about Dean, and she was happy to listen. She always was, no matter the subject." Sam paused for a moment, then finally decided to tackle the question she had asked him. "I told her about how I had always looked up to him, how he had always protected me and was always there for me. I told her that he had been the only person I ever felt that I could truly count on... She seemed a bit jealous, to be honest. She actually asked me if I loved Dean more than her."

Williamson smiled slightly, and stole a glance at Dean, who was staring at his brother intently, interest on his face. She looked back at Sam. "And what did you say?"

"I told her the truth," Sam said, shrugging slightly. "I said I did. She didn't seem angry or mad or anything, either. That was the great thing about her. She understood me better than I understood myself."

"What happened the night she died?" Williamson asked softly.

"I had come home after having spent the weekend with Dean, on a small road trip and I called out for her a few times. I didn't get an answer, but then I heard the shower going so I figured that was her, so I didn't worry. I walked into my room and..." Sam decided he'd leave out the bit about Jess being on the ceiling. He didn't think Williamson would take too kindly to that. "... there she was. Gutted, like my mother had, and... on fire... I couldn't breath for a moment, you know? I wanted to save her so badly, to take her into my arms and make sure she was never hurt again. But... it was too late. When that hit me it felt like every muscle in my body had stopped working... if it wasn't for Dean I probably would've died where I was."

"Why did Dean come back into the apartment?" Williamson asked, stealing a quick glance at Dean. The older Winchester noticed this and became a bit uncomfortable. Did she know?

Sam thought for a moment, then shrugged, looking a bit confused. "You know, I actually don't know. I can't believe I never bothered to ask. I really don't know why he was there to save me."

Williamson looked over at Dean. "What do you think?" When Dean looked startled at this question, she smiled slightly. "You said you were close to Dean. Why do you think he ran back in?"

Dean swallowed hard. Something definitely wasn't right here. "I, uh... Er... Maybe he thought something wasn't quite right... like something was off... He probably just wanted to make sure that Sam was safe."

Williamson nodded, and smirked slightly. "I'm sure." She looked back at Sam after a moment of staring at Dean intently. She wanted them to think that she knew, without being sure. She wanted them to panic. It'd make this a lot more fun. "Sam, how guilty do you feel about everything that has happened with your parents, your brother and Jessica?"

"Well, before, I... I felt like it was completely all my fault." Sam thought for a moment, looking a bit confused.

Williamson opened her mouth to say something, but Dean beat her to the punch. "And now?"

"Now?" Sam looked over at Dean, and smiled slightly, shaking his head. "Take Jess and I... I don't feel so guilty anymore."

Dean smiled slightly, nodding. "Good. We'll have to work on the whole Jess thing, then, now won't we?"

Williamson jotted down a few more notes, then looked up at the clock, before smiling at the Winchesters. "Well, that's all the time we have for today. Sam, you've shown some very good progress. I say we meet again the same time tomorrow, but this time we'll try it without Ryan. How does that sound?"

Sam stood up, along with Dean. He nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good." He looked over at Dean, who also nodded. Sam looked back at Williamson. "Tomorrow at two it is then."

"Great," Williamson said, standing up. She smiled at the two. "See you guys then."

As Dean and Sam made their way over to the Impala, Dean looked over at his little brother, with slightly narrowed eyes. It wouldn't have bugged Sam so much if Dean would've stopped after, like, a minute. But, yet, they were four minutes away from where they had parked and Dean looked as if he was still trying to figure Sam out. _The whole fucking way_.

"Is there something I can do for you?" Sam asked, turning to Dean as they reached the car.

"No," Dean said simply, opening his door and crawling in the car.

Sam scoffed a laugh, shaking his head, before making his way over to the passenger side and climbing in. Dean had just started the car and was about to pull out when the brown-haired married waitress from the diner they had been at the week before ran up to the car and knocked on Dean's window, looking panicked. Dean rolled down his window and opened his mouth to say something when she cut him off.

"You two are in danger!"

* * *

**Haley**: See, you guys can always be certain that you'll get an update after certain special days.

**Sam**: And what days are those?

**Haley**: Days when Supernatural was new, of course! Oh my god, today's episode was _so_ good. Kind of sad for me, though, since I'm a Sam-Meg shipper.

**Dean**: What, that evil bitch?

**Haley**: Hey, if she hadn't tried to kill ya'll her and Sam would be cute together! Oh, speaking of Sam's love life, we have a winner for the contest! It was actually an anonymous reviewer, Lauren! With, jeez, well over 600 words in her review! Do you even _know_ how long it took to read that? xD

**Sam**: So when are you writing the new story?

**Haley**: Oh 'em gee, I have the first part of the first chapter worked out, and you and Dean get in a huge fight in that part, but I'm having a hard time picking it up from there. I'm thinking a demon attacks or something. I don't know. I _do_ know that Lauren won't show up for a few chapters, though. You boys have to go through a few things first! Anyway, I need to be heading to bed. Say bye!

**Sam**: Bye!

**Dean**: Yeah, whatever, see ya.

**Haley**: Make sure to press that little button in the bottom left hand corner of your screen! Love ya'll lots! Bye!


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter Nine

**Set After**: I'm basically saying that it's after 'Shadow' now.

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: probably a few typos here and there...

* * *

"You two are in danger!"

Dean raised his eyebrows and looked over at Sam for a moment. In that moment their eyes locked, both trying to decide whether or not to take the woman seriously. They silently agreed to give her the time of day and explain her case, then looked back at her.

"Are you two deaf?" the woman asked, her eyes still wide in fear. She opened Dean's door and pulled a stunned Winchester out from behind the wheel. "She wants Sam!"

Those three words were enough to get Dean interested. His eyes showed fear and love, mixed with a bit of confusion. But that was it. He wasn't even angry or shocked at the woman's actions. Heart beating fast, he swallowed hard. No way was he going to let someone hurt Sam. No way in hell. "Excuse me?"

"The shrink," the woman said, her eyes pleading. "You have to believe me. She's a demon posing as a psychiatrist. She likes to get inside people's heads and use their drama against them as they're killing them. You must've done something to piss her off bad. She's actually usually pretty nice."

By this time Sam was standing next to the two. He had gotten out of the car as soon as she had pulled Dean out, fearing that she was going to hurt his brother. But when she had yelled that psych wanted him, he knew that this woman had probably seen some fucked up things in her life.

"How do you know this?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes at the waitress. Wait, if the shrink was a demon, then did that mean…?

"I'm not like her," the woman said quickly, shaking her head. "I swear I'm not. I actually know this because… well… she's my sister."

Sam scoffed a laugh and shook his head. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the car. Dean eyed him and the car, but chose not to say anything. He would later, when they hadn't just gotten out of a session and Sam hadn't said… those thing. Sam narrowed his eyes at the woman. "If you're sisters then how are you not a demon?"

"Someone changed them. My sisters, I mean. I was gone away at college when it happened." The woman seemed a bit upset at the thought. She let out a breath and shook her head. "My family was all about the hunting of evil creatures, you know? I didn't exactly like that. So I left for college. Then I heard that my older sisters had gotten in a bit of a spot while on a hunt about a year ago… I rushed back, of course. To make sure they were okay. Transferred schools and everything." She shook her head slightly. "Anyway, I'm getting off topic. Me and my sisters still talk all the time. Well, me and Christina do. The psychologist? She talked about getting revenge on some brothers… she wouldn't tell me why, though…"

"'Revenge,'" Sam said quietly, thinking. Now that he thought about it… the shrink _did_ look an awful lot like the demon in his vision…

"If she was so into hunting then how the hell is she a shrink?" Dean asked, crossing his arms.

The woman grimaced slightly, as if looking back on memories that weren't the most pleasant. Ones that weren't the nicest when it came to the whole 'good vs. evil' gig. "Trust me, you don't want to know." She sighed, looking back at the building. A thought then hit her, and she grabbed Sam.

"Hey, what the hell?" Dean grabbed Sam back. "Like I'm letting someone with siblings like yours touch him."

"I'm not going to hurt him." When Dean didn't let up, she glared at him, growling slightly. "Don't make me knee you, boy." Dean and Sam shared a look, and Dean pushed his brother towards the woman. She seemed satisfied. "Thanks." She then lifted up Sam's shirt, taking in the mark. She shook her head slightly, sighing. "That's why she wants you. You're the guys who killed Rebecca."

"'Rebecca?'" Sam repeated, looking confused.

"The demon that tried to sacrifice you." The woman then dropped Sam's shirt and pushed him back into Dean. "Good luck fighting off Christina." She started to turn away.

"What, you're not going to help?" Dean asked, looking a bit pissed. He grabbed her arm to keep her from walking off. "You're the one who warned us!"

The woman pulled away from Dean, shaking her head. "Look, you killed my sister. Sure, she was a demon and, sure, she was a little nutty, but… She was still my older sister." The looked over at Sam, swallowing hard. "If Dean got turned into some evil being wouldn't you still love him the same and swear to hurt anyone who killed him?"

Sam thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I would," he said quietly. "I understand."

The woman smiled slightly at Sam. "Hey, I'll think about it, alright? I know that you guys didn't have a choice but hurt her. It was self defense. That's why I'm not killing you on the spot."

"Like you could," Dean said, causing Sam to kick him slightly. Dean glared at his younger brother.

"Good luck." The woman turned away, but, after a few steps, looking back at them. "By the way, my name's Taylor." Taylor smiled at them slightly, then walked off.

* * *

"Okay, so I guess your next appointment is cancelled."

Dean and Sam were now sitting in their motel room, Dean flipping through John's journal and Sam typing away at the keyboard on the laptop. The older Winchester had seemed pissed the whole way back, and, whenever Sam tried to start up a conversation, he wouldn't talk much. Dean had to find a way to keep all these demons away from his brother. He succeeded in killed 'Rebecca', but now he had Christina left… along with the demon that had killed Mary and Jess.

When Sam didn't say anything, Dean looked over at his brother, who seemed to be lost in thought. He was staring at the wall, and Dean looked over at it, not finding anything in the least bit interesting. He looked back over at Sam. "Hey, Sam, how about I rent you a stripper for your birthday?"

That caught Sam's attention. He looked disgusted for a moment. But he then realized what Dean was doing, and rolled his eyes. "Actually, Dean, maybe I should go." When Dean opened his mouth in protest, Sam quickly continued. "No, seriously. I mean, she'll become suspicious if I don't. If we just act like everything's normal then we'll have more time to dig up stuff on her. And maybe even convince Taylor to help out."

Dean thought for a moment, then groaned in annoyance, nodding. He hated it when his brother was right. "Yeah, fine. Just be careful. And take a gun in with you or something."

Sam nodded. "Alright." He turned back to the laptop, staring to type away on the keyboard again. After a moment, however, he paused. Curious from the lack of noise, Dean tore his eyes away from the journal and looked back at his brother. Sam looked lost in thought again, but, yet, spoke. "Hey, Dean."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, looking back down at the journal, flipping through a few pages.

"Do you think they know each other? Do you think demons keep in contact with each other?"

That question caught Dean off guard, and he looked back at his brother quickly. "Um… I don't know. They're a race, Sam. So they're about as likely to keep in touch with other strange demons then we are to keep in touch with people we haven't met." Sam nodded slightly, looking a bit upset. He then turned back to the laptop, starting to scroll down the page. "Why do you ask?"

Sam paused for a millisecond, but then started scrolling again. "I just thought that Christina might know where to find Mom and Jess's killer, that's all," he said, attempting to be casual as he shrugged.

"Sam, we'll find it, alright?" Dean said softly. "Then… Then you can go back to your normal little life at Stanford."

**_(AN: I changed the 'Set After'. If you haven't yet… go look at it! xD)_**

Sam looked up at his brother, his breath catching in his throat for a second. Dean had looked back down at the journal, and looked a bit upset, though he knew the older Winchester would never admit to it. Sam was also a bit upset… he knew Dean hated the thought of Sam leaving him again. "Yeah, I guess," he said quietly before looking back at the laptop.

Dean looked up at his brother, even more hurt by those words. But, hell no, he wasn't going to sob like a little baby in front of his brother. Hey, he still had an image to keep up. Closing the journal, he stood up from the bed. "I didn't find anything. Holler if you do. I'm gonna go take a shower."

Sam nodded and watched as his brother grabbed a pair of boxers, a pair of sweats, a towel and a few toiletries before heading into the bathroom. He sighed and shook his head, leaning against the pillow. Why did he always have to screw everything up?

* * *

**Haley**: Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait… I had some things on my mind. **_Shrug_**. Oh, I thought you guys should know where I got the name 'Ryan Morgan'. I RP (Role Play) a lot, right? And when you RP your characters are portrayed by celebrities. Well, I'm on this one site and I use Jensen Ackles (who plays Dean). My character's name is Ryan Morgan. So, I was like, "Hell, I don't feel like making up a new name. I'll use Ryan's." So, for all of you who think that Ryan's not a 'Dean' name, tough. Ryan's _a lot_ like Dean. And Ryan has a brother, named, Scott, who's portrayed by Jared Padalecki (who plays Sam), who's _a lot_ like Sam xD It's weird, though… Scott's three months older than Ryan (different mothers)… So when we're playing them it's like Sam's older than Dean. So, yes, weird xD Anyway, that's the story behind Dean's cover name.

**Sam & Dean**: …

**Haley**: Eeep, I don't have time to chat today. I gotta write my next Outsiders fanfic and send it to my Outsiders beta-reader! So, bye, ya'll!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter Ten

**Set After**: I'm basically saying that it's after 'Shadow' now.

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: probably a few typos here and there...

* * *

"So, Sam, I noticed some tension between Ryan and yourself as you two stepped into the waiting room this morning."

Sam was back in Dr. Williamson's office the next day, and, unfortunately, she was right. Ever since the brothers' little conversation the night before they hadn't gotten along too well, and were barely talking to each other. Sam blamed himself for this, and wasn't upset in the least bit that Dean was being a bit moody. But, really, Dean needed to learn how to let go. How was he ever supposed to get _anywhere_ in life if he always depend on living with the soul purpose of protecting his little brother? It was flattering, yes, but unhealthy. And, Sam noticed as he thought back on Dean watching out for him while he was at Stanford, strangely stalker-ish.

Sam shrugged, sitting down in the chair opposite the young woman. "Yeah, a bit." He had to remember that it was the small details that she needed. This was probably her plan all along. Get the brothers to separate so she could kill them off on the spot. "It's nothing, though."

"Tell me what happened," Dr. Williamson said, looking interested. Well, of course she was interested. The more information she got out of Sam the better, right? The more information she got from him was just more ammo that she could use against the brothers in the long run.

"He's just mad that I got to pick out last night's dinner, that's all," Sam lied, shrugging. But, as she looked at him with those brown, searching eyes, he wondered if she knew that what he said wasn't the truth. He could feel her probing into his mind, and willed himself to block her off.

"Sam, you look tired."

Sam thought for a moment, staring at her like she was crazy. What? He wasn't tired. What, was this some game to get him to crack? Because it wasn't working. It... Well... actually... Now that he thought about it he was a _bit_ tired... Sam stifled a yawn, and shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Williamson got up from her seat and walked over to Sam slowly, as his eyes started to droop ever so slightly. She smiled softly and gently touched Sam's cheek, rubbing it soothingly with her thumb. "You need to relax, you know? How are we going to have an effective session if you don't know how to stress down a bit?"

Sam shook his head, his eyes close to closing. "No, I'm fine. Really. I... I..." Sam wasn't able to finish his sentence. His world soon went black.

* * *

"So, Sam, how was the session?" Dean asked as the two made their way back to the car. While he was sitting in the waiting room, reading an article on some famous guy's car, he had started to hear soft moans coming from Dr. Williamson's office. At first he started thinking that they were getting hot and sweaty in that little room, but reminded himself that Sam wouldn't do that. Until he realized that getting hot and sweaty with a demon was exactly how to get on her good side. Really, who could kill somebody they just slept with? Wait… He wasn't one to talk about who not to sleep with, was he?

"Fine," Sam said, shrugging. He seemed a little tense, and that fact just caused Dean to worry. Weren't psych visits supposed to help you relax and let go of your problems? Since when did they add to them? Then again, a psych visit with a normal psychiatrist was probably a lot different than one with a demon.

"Really? Do anything... fun?" Dean asked in an off-handed tone. He opened up his car door and slipped inside. When Sam didn't answer him right away, Dean became curious. He waited until his brother's door was closed, and raised his eyebrows. "Sammy?"

"What?" Sam asked, looking over at his brother. He acted as if he hadn't even heard the previous question. Oh god. Did that mean that Dean's baby brother actually _did_ sleep with the demon?

"Didn't we have this chat before? You're supposed to go after the _non-evil_ bitches if you want to get laid." Dean shook his head and started the car, slowly pulling out of the parking spot. Sam stared at him with a confused expression. _Yeah, whatever, Sam_, Dean thought to himself, mentally rolling his eyes. _No need to play dumb with me. It's my specialty. Wait... Did I just call myself dumb in my own head?_ Dean shook his head slightly and looked over at his brother for a second, who still looked confused. "You didn't sleep with her?"

Sam raised his eyebrows slightly, then shook his head. "No. Should I have?"

"Well, it would've been a good way to get her off your case. 'Don't worry; you were a good fuck so I won't get revenge on you for murdering my sister.' I would've done it." Dean grinned and glanced at his brother, who was just shaking his head in disgust. Dean shrugged, looking back at the road. Okay, so first Sam just _took_ 'Sammy', without even a word against it. Acted like it was totally normal. And there was also the whole 'tension' thing. And now he didn't have a witty comeback? "Sam, what really happened in there?"

Sam shrugged, looking out his widow. "Nothing." Well, at least the whole 'I'm not telling you jack shit' was still the same. Dean could always count on that coming from his brother. Actually, he would've preferred that be one of the things that he _didn't_ always have to deal with, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Oh-kay, then," Dean said, raising his eyebrows slightly. What the hell was up with Sam, anyway? Hadn't they agreed before that it was best to talk about stuff now? Ever since Sam had tried to kill himself? Dean didn't want that to happen again. God, he didn't know what he'd do if he lost Sam. He'd lose it. He knew he would. He'd just break down and… Well, the point was, the two had agreed to talk more from now on. "Fine" "What" and "Nothing" didn't really count as talking. One word sentences, gotta love 'em.

Dean reached over and turned on the cassette player, ACDC blasting through the speakers. He looked over at his little brother to see if he cared or not. To see if he would shout out an annoyed remark. "Dean, turn that so-called _music_ off" or "Dean, does it have to be so loud" or "Dean, can't we just listen to the radio for once?" But nothing came. Nothing at all. Alright, that was it.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam's eyes were curious and worried as Dean pulled over to the side of the road. It was time to figure out what was going on in Sam's head. No games, no distractions, no psycho demon shrinks. Just the two brothers, the Impala, and the lovely little ditch right off to their right.

"Sam, what the hell is wrong with you?" Dean asked, never one for subtly. Sam looked surprised at his words, and Dean just rolled his eyes. He was getting tired of this. Sam seemed just fine before the appointment. "What the hell happened in that office?"

"Nothing!" Sam said, looking honest-to-god annoyed that Dean kept asking the same question over and over. Yeah, well, he was gonna keep on asking until he got a _real_ answer. So Sam would just have to deal until then.

"Yes, something _did_ happen!" Dean yelled, his hand closing into a tight fist. God, why couldn't Sam just tell him the truth? Why did he always feel like he had to hide stuff from his older brother? His visions, his guilt about Jessica, the whole 'trying to kill himself' thing, and now whatever the hell happened at the shrink. Dean was getting fucking tired of it all. Dean took a slight deep breath, shaking his head as he tried to calm himself down. "You're not acting like yourself. So, unless you're not my brother, there's seriously something fucked up with you."

Sam was silent for a moment, and Dean looked at him curiously. Sam's eyes. Why hadn't he noticed Sam's eyes before? His brother always had a certain look in his eyes. Dean could never place it exactly, and had finally dubbed it 'The Sammy Look' when the older of the two was about seventeen. But… this Sam didn't have that look in his eyes. Sam then smirked, shrugging slightly. "Guilty as charged."

Dean narrowed his eyes, panic settling over his entire being. But he wouldn't let it show; he couldn't. Sam's life depended on Dean being strong and getting to the bottom of this. Well… he wasn't certain that Sam's life _depended_ on it, but figuring that the shrink was a demon and the man in front of him now was in fact _not_ Sam, he could guestimate that Sam was in danger. "Where the fuck is my brother?"

Sam smirked slightly, shrugging. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Oh, that son of a bitch!

"Yeah, actually, I would." Dean knew he shouldn't have let Sam go in that office alone. Yesterday the proposal had seemed wise; if Sam was going to get better he had to learn not to lean on Dean. Plus, without Dean there, he could talk freely about his negative feelings towards his older brother without feeling guilty afterwards. But since they had found out that the shrink was a demon, it hadn't seemed like such a wise idea. Even though they had been mad at each other, Dean still argued with Sam about this. But, yet, Sam didn't let Dean in the room with him… Dean knew something bad was gonna happen. He felt it. So why the hell hadn't he acted on it?

Sam seemed to think about Dean's words for a minute. God, if this creep wasn't the answer to Sam's whereabouts Dean would've already had his hands around his neck, strangling the goddamn piece of shit to death. The irony of it all. "Fine, I'll take you to see him."

Dean was caught off guard by this one. Wait, nothing in life was that easy. What the goddamn hell? What was the catch? There had to be a catch. Demons weren't just nice for no reason. They always had a hidden agenda. They always had a reason for what they did. Well, the nice things that they did, at least. "What's in it for you?"

The smirk that crossed Sam's face sent chills down Dean's spine. It was in that moment that his brother intuition kicked in, and he really _knew_ that Sam was in danger. That something was not right with his baby brother. The smirk was one of evil… but not an evil that Dean had faced before, actually. This evil was hateful, wanting revenge. It was the smirk of the psychiatrist if she had shown her evil side to the brothers in the office.

"I get to kill two birds with one stone," Sam said, his smirk still in place. "Almost literally." Dean was about to shoot a wise ass remark back at the demon, but couldn't. Sam raised his hand, and closed it in a tight fist. Before the Winchester knew it, he couldn't breathe. The demon was cutting his air supply off. And, rather sooner than later, his world went black.

* * *

**Haley**: Oh 'em gee, guys, I'm am _so sorry_ for the wait! I had a major writer's block with this chapter. Like, I knew what I wanted to happen, but I didn't know how it was _gonna_ happen, you know? Anyway, I figure that there are only a couple to a few more chapters left... Not many, though! Yes, if you haven't guessed it, this is a WIP. I post 'em as I write 'em... But I generally know what's gonna happen... Only... I have _no effing clue_ what the ending is going to be. I'm _really_ sick and tired of happy endings, so I don't know if this story is going to have one. Maybe, though! .

**Dean**: Wait. No happy ending?

**Haley**: Maybe not. I'm not sure yet. I'm still deciding.

**Sam**: Would something happen to me or to Dean?

**Haley**: Well, either Dean will give up his life to stop Sam's guilt, which, really, doesn't make any sense. Or Sam will finally kill himself. Both are really effed up. So, I dunno. I guess you guys will just have to wait and see, huh?

**Dean**: You know, you're more evil than most of the bastards we fight.

**Haley**: Yeah, I know. But that's part of the reason you love meh!

**Dean**: ...

**Haley**: Heh... Dean?

**Dean**: ...

**Haley**: Deany Weany Bo Beany?

**Sam & Dean**: O.o

**Dean**: Who said I love you?

**Haley**: _**Gaspeh**_! I'm so hurt!

**Dean**: Good.

**Haley**: **_Sniffle sniffle_**.

**Sam**: Dean, go buy some Midol or something.

**Dean**: Shut up.

**Sam**: Jerk.

**Dean**: Bitch.

**Haley**: Wow, you guys are really unoriginal. _Any_way... **_Turns to readers_** Please review, cause ya'll know you love meh! Even if Dean doesn't... **_Sob_** Until next time!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter Eleven

**Set After**: **_NEW SET AFTER! I LOVED 'SOMETHING WICKED' SO IT'S AFTER THAT! AMAZING BROTHERLY OVERPROTECTIVE DEAN!_**

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: probably a few typos here and there...

"Wakey, wakey."

Dean opened his eyes slowly, finding himself in a room… a room that looked as if it were one found in a normal, average American home. Damn, what was with these demons and suddenly taking their victims into hominal settings? What ever happened to the caves, or woods, or whatever the else hell they lived in? The older Winchester groaned and looked around, taking in every detail about where he was. Couch, chairs, TV, coffee table… and he _wasn't_ locked up? Wait, what? And where the hell was Sam?

Christina (the psychiatrist, remember?) stepped towards Dean, having been hiding by a shadow in the corner. She had a deadly smirk upon her face as her eyes danced, while her body was covered in a full black outfit. Damn, these demons needed to lay off of all this cliché crap.

Dean looked around carefully. Okay, she wouldn't just leave him unlocked for nothing. There had to be a catch. There had to be something that would kill him if he tried to escape. Or else Christina was just stupid. Because, really, she wouldn't be able to take on Dean by herself. She wasn't strong enough. At least… Dean didn't think so. But one of the Winchester rules was to not underestimate your opponents… Hey, the girl made a lot of money with her shrink job, so she couldn't be stupid. Dean narrowed his eyes and her, and stood up from his place on the couch before taking a step forwards. He then hit something like an invisible force field, and fell back onto the couch. Yup. She was smart.

"Don't worry, honey, your brother's just fine… for now," Christina said, smirking slightly. She walked towards him, stepping just short of the force field. "Really, I couldn't just off him. I wanted you to pay. You know, I saw what you did to my sister. We share a connection. We can see what each other's doing when we're tapped into our demonic powers… Since I watched you kill my little sister, you're going to watch me kill your little brother. Only seems fair."

"You sick bitch," Dean said, glaring at her. It was killing him that he had to sit here, watching her. He had to sit on his ass while God only knew what was happening to his brother. He hated it. He hated just sitting here because of the force field, he hated this bitch for capturing him, he hated himself for not being able to fight the demon, he hated his father for leaving them in a situation like this, and he hated—no, was _mad at_—Sam for getting himself kidnapped. He just hated it.

"Thanks," Christina said, a satisfied smile upon her face. She slowly started walking around the couch, Dean following her with his eyes. That bitch was gonna pay. He was going to make sure of it. "Would you like to see your brother?"

"That's the fucking stupidest question I have ever heard in my goddamn life," Dean growled, glaring at her. Maybe he could take a leaf out of that hick family's book and torture her to death with a white hot fire poker. Yeah, that sounded fun.

"So I take it that's a yes?" Christina asked, now stopping in front of Dean, having walked a full circle around the couch. At the look Dean gave her she raised her eyebrows, nodding. "Alright. We'll go see him. If you're sure you want to, that is."

Suspicious. Why was she all for letting him see Sam? And what did she mean by 'if you're sure'? Of course he was fucking sure! He had to see if Sam was alright! There was something off about this demon. Well, of course there was. There was something off about all demons. That's why they were called _demons_. But there was something different about this one. And then it hit Dean. _"Someone changed them. My sisters, I mean."_ That was right. Christina used to be human. And now she was just pissed that Dean killed her little sister. Well, he could understand that... even if he didn't like it.

Christina nodded, looking Dean over. She then closed her eyes and whispered something incoherent to Dean for a couple seconds. She then waved her hand, keeping it pointed at Dean as she opened her eyes. "Walk forward." Dean stared at her like she was crazy. What the hell? "Dude, I said walk forward. Now do it or you don't get to see your brother until I kill him." Dean swallowed hard, looking around. He then stood up and slowly started walking forward, Christina following alongside him, her arm still outstretched. "Good boy. Now, don't try to escape. I'm just moving the force field. That's why you can walk."

"I have to ask you something," Dean said, Christina following behind him. As he tried to take a turn, he ran into the force field, being thrown back a bit. He glared at her and turned the other way. She could at least tell him where to go. Bitch.

"Shoot."

"Were you controlling Sammy's body or was Sammy here the whole time?" Dean asked, swallowing hard. He had seriously thought about grabbing his gun while he was in the Impala. But he hadn't known if it was his brother's body. Besides, without the demon it would've taken longer to find his brother.

"Oh, Sam was here. I just share the same power as Rebecca. We're like shape shifters, but much more powerful. And we're not hideous when in our own form. And we don't shed in a disgusting way." Christina thought for a moment, looking like a blonde caught in the middle of a mall traffic jam. "I guess I'm not much like a shape shifter, am I?" Dean just rolled his eyes.

Soon they were in a room, filled with cabinets displaying knives, along with others displaying guns. There was also an altar in the far end of the room, a giant pentagram painted above it on the wall behind. Plus, there was some normal stuff. A couch, a coat rack, a lamp... God damn these suburban demon hideouts. Sam was sitting in a corner, resting his head against the wall. It was obvious that he had a force field around him, or Dean would've kicked his ass for not getting out sooner and using the weapons that were at his disposal.

"Sam?" Dean asked, walking a few steps forward. He looked over at Christina, who nodded, motioning that he could walk over to him without having anything blocking his path. Dean sighed in relief and walked over to Sam, kneeling down next to him. "Sammy?" Sam opened his eyes, and when they fell on Dean he backed up a bit, looking terrified. What the hell was wrong with him? "Sam, what's wrong? It's just me."

"I put a spell on him."

"Of course you did," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "What the fuck did you do to my brother?" Oh, he was gonna make this bitch die a long, agonizing death.

"I just made it so the person he's closest to looks like the demon he was terrified the most of in his life, that's all." Christina smirked and crossed her arms, watching as Sam's breath caught in his throat, tears of fear coming to his eyes. "Apparently the demon scared him shitless, because he's not even fighting back."

Dean was both happy and angry at those words. She was right. Sam knew better than to just sit back and not fight. He _had_ to fight. Or else he could die. But... he was glad Sam wasn't fighting him. He wouldn't be able to knock Dean out of the ring, but Sam held a pretty mean punch. And Dean tried to avoid getting in the way of those.

"Sam, c'mon, man," Dean said softly, his heart breaking at the fear in Sam's eyes. "You're better than this. You're better than a damn demon's spell. It's Dean. I'm Dean. Your big brother. The jerk. The lady's man. Remember? I gave you your first bottle of beer. Your first condom, too." When he noticed some realization in Sam's eyes, he smiled slightly. Good. But there was more fear than realization, and Sam was still terrified of Dean. Bad. Dean looked over at the demon. "Fix him."

"Honey? I'm a demon. I don't work that way." Christina laughed slightly, shaking her head. "It hurts, doesn't it?" She walked towards the brothers slowly, her eyes dangerous. "Taylor knew it was us, but she acted like she didn't even know Rebecca and myself. Her older sisters. There was so much fear in her eyes. So much hate. You killed my little sister, Dean. So whatever pain I've felt from either of my sisters you're gonna feel from your brother." Christina finally moved her outstretched hand, quickly towards the opposite wall. Immediately Dean was thrown backwards, crashing hard into the wall.

"Stop it," Sam whispered, taking in gasp-y breaths, as though he was finishing up a sob fest. "Please."

"Who is he?" Christina asked curiously, walking over to Sam. She kneeled down in front of him and took his head in her hands, lifting up his chin so their eyes would lock completely. She hoped her touching Sam would fool Dean. She could go in force fields, but they couldn't get out. And she would just love to see Dean run into his again. It amused her.

"He... He's the demon... that killed you..." Sam said softly, looking over at Dean. "I know I should fight him... protect you... but I can't... I don't know why... I can't..."

"And who am I?" Christina asked, smirking evilly as she looked over at Dean, who was slowly standing up, looking in pain.

Sam looked back at Christina. He smiled slightly. "What do you mean? You're Jess."

"Oh, damnit," Dean said, shaking his head. Not good. He didn't trust Dean and he'd do anything for Christina. Great. This was exactly how he planned his evening. Fight with Sam, go to the shrink, get kidnapped by the shrink, have Sam hate him and love a demon. Why couldn't this demon just be an easy kill? Why couldn't she had been attacked by something weak? After seeing Sammy slice up his own arm the week before he _really_ wasn't in the mood for PMSing evil bitches right now.

Christina knelt down in front of Sam, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. She looked at the symbol on his torso, smirking evilly. "Sammy, honey, you would do _anything_ for me, right?"

Sam looked at Christina curiously, then nodded. "Of course. What is it, Jess? What do you want me to do?"

Christina put her hand on the symbol, closing her eyes. The symbol started to glow red, and Sam closed his eyes in pain. Everything came back to him. Dean, Christina, Rebecca, Taylor... It all made sense again. And he tried to fight the woman off, but... he couldn't. He couldn't move. His head snapped back and Christina pulled her hand back a bit, his chest going with it. It was like they were connected.

Dean's eyes went wide, in fear and anger. "GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM!" He tried to ram through the force field, but instead was thrown back into the wall after his feeble attempt. No way. She couldn't do this to him. She couldn't make him watch his brother die while he had no way to stop it. She couldn't do this to him. It was sick and twisted! But... wait. Hadn't Sam said that in his vision he had been stabbed with a coat hanger? There was a coat hanger nearby, but unless Dean had _really_ missed something, he hadn't been stabbed yet. Sammy wasn't going to die. Not yet and not ever. Well, not until he was old, at least. Dean would make sure of that.

Christina withdrew her hand from Sam's torso slowly, opening her eyes. She then stepped back, out of Sam's force field. The young woman smirked slightly and nodded. "Good Sam." As Dean looked, he found that the symbol was gone. What the hell? "It was all your fault, you know that, right?"

Sam swallowed hard, shaking his head. His eyes were now open and he was looking at Christina. "No. It wasn't. Jess was, but the rest wasn't. Mom just tried to protect me. Dad was always just worried because demons liked the way I tasted. And Dean? He's my older brother. He's supposed to worry and look out for me. It's in his job description. Or so he says. I could've told Jess--I should've told Jess--but nothing else was my fault."

"Good for you, Sammy," Dean said, smiling slightly. It was great to hear his little brother say that. After Sam had been repeating that 'everything was his fault' for the last few weeks it was great to hear him say the opposite. Dean was proud of his little brother. What happened next caught him off guard.

Christina glared at Sam, stepping forward slowly. Her eyes turned blue as she knelt down in front of him. "I said: _it was all your fault, you know that, right_?"

Sam's eyes suddenly turned blue, and he nodded slowly. His next words were in monotone, and he seemed completely out of it. Like he wasn't in control. "Yeah. I know. Everything was my fault."

"Damnit," Dean muttered.

* * *

**Haley**: Hey guys! Sorry for the long, long, long wait! But I'm in class and I gotta go! Love ya'll!

**Sam**: Hey guys! Bye guys!

**Dean**: Yeah, whatever.

**Haley**: For all of those who are watching the newer SN episodes (like _not_ England and those European people) tell me how much you loved 'Something Wicked' and big brother Dean and I'll tell you how much I loved it in a review reply! Gotta go! Love ya'll! Review please! Ciao!


	12. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey guys! I got some news. I know I should've told ya'll this way, way sooner, but all my stories on are hiatus for the summer. And, seeing as I'm gonna be a Senior come September, I dunno how my school year is gonna work for me. Hopefully I'll have time for writing, but we'll see **_shrug_**.

Anyway, what I've been doing this summer and will be doing the rest of the summer is RPGing (Role Play Grouping). It's fun and entertaining! Really xP If ya'll want to check out my newest site just opened this morning (that I run with Anna. You remember her, right? Sam's girlfriend in some past fanfics? xD). Remember to take out the spaces and turn dot into actual dots and slash into actually slashes. Oh, and there's an underscore in there, too. Don't forget that.

Z6 dot invisionfree dot com slash Bright underscore Darkness

And, for your viewing pleasure, some Ryan-Jason RP Aim conversations… Remember them? I talked about them a few months ago. Ryan and Jason brothers that me and my friend Sami play. Ryan is represented by Jensen Ackles (Dean), and has a lot of Dean-ish qualities. Though, I must say that he's more like Alec from Dark Angel (Jensen also played him). Jason is represented by Jared Padalecki (Sam), and has a lot of Sam-ish qualities. Ryan's always Jason's older brother, but their ages vary from site to site.

Anyway, Ryan (Jensen/Dean) is '.uoY.kcuF.' and Jason (Jared/Sam) is 'rock.n.roll.damnation'.

Enjoy!

**.uoY.kcuF.**: I got a problem.

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Hi to you too.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Brooke didn't fall in love with me-me.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: She fell in love with ass-me.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: So I was acting like me-me and...  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: She asked me if I was drunk.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: . 

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Uhoh.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** That's a problem.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Give her a chance, she might love you-you too.

----

**.uoY.kcuF.**: If I have to drop out I will.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: I'm 18.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: So why not?

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** You can't quit school.

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** You want to give Becka the best future then you need to graduate.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** If you graduate then you can get a better job and give her a better life.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Think of it that way.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Plus, you're too smart to go dropping out.

**.uoY.kcuF.**: I'm not smart.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: I'm an idiot.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Ask my teachers, they'd be happy to tell you.

---

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Is she eating dinner?

**.uoY.kcuF.**: Yup.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Heated up some pasta for her.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: She seems to love that stuff.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Gets it from you, I guess.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Regina and I can't stand it.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Yeah her love of pasta is mine. xD Well, love is a little strong. But eh, pasta isn't bad.

**.uoY.kcuF.**: Anyway, she seems better now.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Not so cranky.

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Glad she seems better.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** It's cause she talked to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

**.uoY.kcuF.**: lmao, riiiiiiiight.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Keep telling yourself that, lil bro.

**.uoY.kcuF.**: …  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Though she woke up crying cause her closet was open.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Which is weird, cause I closed it...  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: _shrug_

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Awwwe.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Spooky.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Maybe she's right.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Maybe there's a ghost.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: _eye roll_  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Yeah, okay, and the boogeyman is real, too.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: What are you, five?  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: xD

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** _pouts_  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Next you'll tell me Santa Claus just a fat old guy at the mall who's dressed up in a suit and a wig once every year.

**.uoY.kcuF.**: Do **not** tell me you believe in Santa.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Well, Jay, I guess it's time to tell you about the Easter Bunny, too...  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: xD  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: You're such a loser.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: 3

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** My innocence remains in tact and therefore I can believe in Santa.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** _nods_

**.uoY.kcuF.**: You know, I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: xD

---

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** And your daughter loves me.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** xD

**.uoY.kcuF.**: Yeah, she does.

**.uoY.kcuF.**: Though I'm not exactly sure why.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: xD  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: 3

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** HEY!  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** You love me too.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Assface. _sniffle _

---

**.uoY.kcuF.**: I've gone soft.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: I don't like it.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Damn shrink.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: ...  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: I feel like a god damn sissy now.

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** You're not a sissy.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Apparently it's kind of manly to be comfortable with displaying your emotions every so often.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** That's what I was reading anyway.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** In that shrink's office a while back.

**.uoY.kcuF.**: ...  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Well, I guess I'm not **too much** of one...  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Figuring that I only show 'em to you, Becka, and now Brooke.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** She always told me it's okay to cry too. Lol.

**.uoY.kcuF.**: Crying?  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Er...  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Mushy every so often, fine. I can do that.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: But crying? No thanks.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Well, not around people, at least.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Maybe while I'm home alone.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: In my closet.

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Crying in a closet, lol.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Yeah.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Whatever you say, bro.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** I'm manly enough to cry lol.

**.uoY.kcuF.**: You're manly? Really?  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Wow, I had no idea.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: I always just thought that you were my bitch.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: And last time I checked bitches weren't manly.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: xD  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: 3  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** I'm your bitch?  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** That makes me sound like your gay loveslave.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Incesttttttttt.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** _runs_  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** _hides_

**.uoY.kcuF.**: lmao  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Oh, yeah, Jay.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: I want you, I need you.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Oh baby, oh baby.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: _totally just stole that from Brooke when she was dissing him_  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: xD

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Haha.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** That's sick.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Eww.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** xD

**.uoY.kcuF.**: Oh, c'mon, you know you want some of this.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: I'm hott.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Smokin'.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Totally irresistable.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: xD

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Oh yeah.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** I hear you kiss ass really well.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** What a shame you're over there.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** I've heard what a great slut you are.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Lol I want you, Ryan.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Now.  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Gross.

**.uoY.kcuF.**: xD  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: You're my bitch.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: You're not my loveslave (thank god _shudder_) but you're my bitch.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: Own it.  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: xD  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: 3

**rock.n.roll.damnation:** Hey!  
**rock.n.roll.damnation:** I am not your bitch!

**.uoY.kcuF.**: You don't want to be my bitch?  
**.uoY.kcuF.**: _sniffle sniffle_


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

**Title**: Lose Yourself

**Chapter Title**: Chapter Twelve

**Set After**: 'Something Wicked'

**Summary**: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

**Warnings**: probably a few typos here and there...

Christina glared at Sam, stepping forward slowly. Her eyes turned blue as she knelt down in front of him. "I said: _it was all your fault, you know that, right_?"

Sam's eyes suddenly turned blue, and he nodded slowly. His next words were in monotone, and he seemed completely out of it. Like he wasn't in control. "Yeah. I know. Everything was my fault."

"Damnit," Dean muttered.

Christina smirked and looked over at Dean, her eyes still a radiant blue. God damnit, that girl was going to pay. Her whole family was psychotic. Sam wasn't the one who needed a shrink; they did. First Rebecca capturing them and feeding off Sam's depression, then Taylor and her whole 'I know you're in trouble but I'm not gonna be helping you guys' act, and now Christina forcing Sam to believe that everything was his fault right after he just got better. It pissed Dean off.

"Leave him alone," Dean growled, standing up slowly, keeping his eyes on the demon. God, this was all his fault. He didn't have to kill Rebecca. He was just mad at her for all the stuff she put Sammy through. But he didn't have to kill her. He knew that she'd lay off, having pissed the older brother off in a major way. But, yet, he still murdered the god damn bitch. Not that she didn't deserve it, cause she did. But… if Dean hadn't killed her, they wouldn't be in this mess right now. No. Wait. Only one Winchester could lay blame on themselves at a time. Dean had to have a clear head. For Sam. Once Sammy was better, _then_ Dean could blame himself for being an unreasonable jackass.

"Now, really, why would I want to do that?" Christina asked, raising her eyebrows, her expression one of innocence. Yeah, right. Innocent. It was laughable.

"Because you're pissing off an older brother."

Christina smirked, looking Dean over for a second, before shrugging. "Yeah? Well, guess what? You pissed off an older _sister_. I think it's a fair trade, to be quite honest. Your brother for my sister." She looked over at Sam, seeing the obvious pain upon his face, before looking back at Dean. "You don't think so?"

Dean growled at the woman, glaring at her. "No, I don't. Your sister tried to sacrifice my brother, so I wasted her ass! She had what was coming to her! She deserved to die! He doesn't!"

Christina glared at Dean, before throwing out her hand in the direction of Sam. As she moved her hand up, Sam's body began to move upward, too, as he was slid against the wall. After a few moments his feet no longer touched the floor, and by the look in his eyes Dean could tell that the shock had turned him back to normal. Christina lifted up her pant leg and grabbed a knife from her shoe, before throwing it at Sam. It stopped right in front of him, in front of his neck.

Christina turned back to Dean, her eyes still glaring.. "You killed her," she growled, holding Dean up by his neck. "Do you know what's it feels like to just have your younger sibling ripped out from underneath you? Well, now you will. I'll hurt you, and then make you watch me murder your baby brother while you slowly die yourself." Christina threw Dean against the wall, where his body collided with a coat hanger. He took in a sharp gasp before he fell to the floor, the wound deep within his back. She then looked back at Sam, smirking. "Say 'bye-bye,' Sammy."

"Christina, stop!"

Christina looked over at the doorway, where Taylor stood, pain evident in her eyes. The older woman was obviously surprised to see her sister, and swallowed hard. "Taylor, what are you doing here? You need to leave. Now."

Taylor shook her head, looking at Sam before looking at Dean, more pain showing in her blue eyes. "Christina, you can't kill them. They didn't do anything wrong. Yes, Dean killed Rebecca, but she was asking for it. Now stop. You're not evil. I know you. You're a good person. You can fight what's within you. Please try."

Christina looked over at Sam, where the knife was still being held to his neck by an invisible force. She then looked over at Dean, who was on the ground, blood sprouting from his back. Shaking her head, Christina looked back at her baby sister. "This has to be done, Taylor. They have to pay." She turned back to Sam, but before she could move the knife, Taylor tackled her to the ground, pinning her there. "What, are you going to kill me, sister? You can't. You don't have the backbone."

Taylor glared at her sister. "I don't want to kill you, Christina. I love you. But I don't want you to kill these boys, either. If you let them go and heal Dean then we'll go find a witch. Someone that can bring Rebecca back. Someone that can change you guys back to the way you're supposed to be. Please." When Christina nodded, Taylor let out a sigh of relief, and got up off her sister. She watched as Christina threw out her hand, the knife coming back to it in an instant. Sam fell to the ground, and rushed over to his brother, who coughed out a bit of blood. Christina sighed and rolled her eyes, waving her hand at the older Winchester. His wound was immediately healed.

Looking over at the boys, Taylor's eyes showed guilt. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. But now you need to go. I need to talk to my sister."

Dean stood up from the floor, nodding. "Thank you." After Taylor nodded in his direction, Dean took Sam by the arm and led him out of the room, looking around. "I'm pretty sure that the living room is this way…" he said before starting down the hallway.

---------------------

That night, Sam laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He sighed, thinking to himself. If it weren't for him, then Dean wouldn't have been in that situation. If it wasn't for him thinking so poorly of himself, then his premonition wouldn't have almost come true. He was always the one putting Dean in life and death situations, it seemed. He was always the one causing trouble for him brother. It didn't seem fair. Dean put himself at risk so much just to protect Sam. And what did he get for it? More situations where he's moments away from death. It was all Sam's fault. The demon wasn't lying, she was just forcing Sam to see the truth. She was forcing him to see that no matter what he did, he would always cause problems for Dean. He would always hurt his brother, whether intentional or not.

Sam looking over at Dean's bed, taking in the image of his brother sleeping soundlessly. Maybe it would do them both good if Sam just left. Maybe if he was gone Dean would be happier. Maybe his life would be simpler.

"Sam, stop thinking that it's all your damn fault and go to bed. Your thinking is keeping me awake."

Well, that sure surprised Sam. He had been sure that Dean had been asleep. Then again, Sam should know better to think that Dean was asleep whenever he was 'sleeping soundlessly.' Dean wasn't a soundless sleeper. Sometimes he snored, other times he rolled around, and then there was the ever so rare grunt. Soundless sleep meant that he wasn't actually sleeping.

"Dean –"

"Sam, shut up." Dean sighed and sat up on his bed, his legs hanging off of the mattress as he looked at his little brother. "I don't care if you think that everything is your fault, alright? Because it's not. Nothing is your fault. Sometimes things happen in life that no one can control. Sometimes some people are born into a bad situation. Think of those kids that had mothers that died when they were born. It wasn't their fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. This is the same situation. Yes, you were born with some freaky powers. Fine, that's great. Mom died protecting you because of those powers. Yeah, that sucks. But that doesn't mean that it was your fault. It just meant that Mom loved you enough to give up her life for you. Sam, your powers don't cause anyone pain. Dad and I, we love you enough to protect you in the same sense that Mom did. Jess, too. She loved you so she died for you.

"So, you know what? I don't want to hear any more crap coming from your mouth. I don't want to hear you blaming and pitying yourself when you have a number of people that care about you and would do anything for you. I'm tired of this crap, alright? I'm tired of waking up in the middle of the night and finding that you've hurt yourself. I'm tired of having to convince you each and every single fucking day that nothing is your fault. Because when you think about it, it's not. It's everyone else's fault for caring about you. And there's nothing you can do about that except appreciate it, care about them back, and not try to end your life when it's obvious that it'll hurt them more than anything ever has in the past. Do you understand me?"

Sam swallowed hard, sighing. He nodded, looking away from his brother. "Yeah. I understand you."

"Great. Now go to sleep," Dean said, laying back on his bed and closing his eyes.

Sam looked up at the ceiling. For the first time in a long time, he finally understood what Dean was saying. He finally understood that maybe it wasn't his fault. That maybe whatever happened in his life didn't hurt the people he cared about, because they cared about him, too, and they would do anything to take care of him. Maybe he should stop pitying himself and move on. Yeah, maybe he should.

"Thanks, Dean," Sam whispered.

Dean didn't respond, but couldn't help but smile a little bit. Finally, the nightmare was over. Because Sam found himself.

* * *

**Haley**: Okay, I shall make this clear right away. Just because I _finally_ updated this story, does NOT mean that I have come back to writing fanfictions. This is my senior year and I'm simply preoccupied with other things. All this means is that I got bored one day during Technical Drafting class and I decided that since we weren't allowed on the internet (boo) and I had my USB Drive with me (yay!) that I'd work on a story since my muse had sparked something deep within me. Now, I've been thinking for a while, and I decided (against my better judgement) that I'll be nice and bring back Sam and Dean for the final chapter. Say hi, boys!

**Sam**: Hi!

**Dean**: Whatever.

**Haley**: Oh my gosh, DID ANYONE SEE LAST NIGHT'S EPISODE OF SUPERNATURAL?? It was so sad. I cried. AND SO DID DEAN.

**Dean**: Pscht. What? I don't cry.

**Haley**: YOU DID TOO. I saw it with my own tear blurred eyes. It was soooooo sad. Okay, anyway, these sections are to talk about the story. So let's get to talkin.

**Dean**: I'm glad you finally finished. This story pissed me off.

**Haley**: Too bad, so sad. You'll live.

**Sam**: I liked it.

**Dean**: You would.

**Sam**: ... That doesn't even make sense, Dean.

**Dean**: Whatever.

_(like I said, I brought them back against my better judgement. after about half a year you start to loose your touch for things.)_

**Haley**: Okay, boys, times to say good bye to the reviewers! errrr... _cough cough..._ I mean... READERS. Riiiiiight.

**Sam**: Bye!

**Dean**: Whatever.

**Sam**: Dean, can't you be nice and at least say something other than 'whatever'?

**Dean**: See ya, wouldn't want to be ya.

**Sam**: _rolls eyes_

**Haley**: By the way, guys, if you leave me nice reviews that I just can't help but looooooove, then that might cause some motivation for me to continue with my other stories... _hint hint! _Anyway, thanks for reading! I'm sorry if the ending turned out lousy, I hope you still love me! Bye!


End file.
